


The Lusty Month of May

by zephiey



Category: The Princess Diaries - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, PWP, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 43,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephiey/pseuds/zephiey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles and vignettes for the Lusty Month of May featuring the characters from the Princess Diaries. Enjoy all thirty-one days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Pleasure- The First Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being late may just be a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Princess Diaries and its characters are the property of Disney, Buena Vista, and Meg Cabot. I make no money from this work of fiction.

**My Pleasure**

Entering Her Majesty’s suite Joseph waited by the door, as was his custom. He never fully entered her suite without her express permission, and he wouldn’t start now. He knew they were running late but there was nothing for it.

 

Parliament had run over- Mabrey and his dammed need to hear himself speak was the reason. This caused Her Majesty to be late for her meeting with the Spanish and Macedonian Ambassadors, resulting in that meeting running over. Now they were late for the opening performance of the Symphony season, which meant Clarisse would be unable to visit with friends before she was required to take her seat. This meant it would put her in a less than pleasant mood, and any enjoyment she would have garnered from the performance would be almost non-existent. He almost wished they could miss the opening performance. He knew they couldn’t, but it was nice to wish it.

 

A muffled curse from the bedroom had Joseph moving from his normal spot almost before he realized it and he stopped, trying to decide if he should proceed or go back. Deciding he would look silly moving back to his former spot, he continued toward the bedroom door. His soft knock was answered by Olivia, Her Majesty’s lady maid. Olivia looked a bit frazzled, but before Joseph could ask the reason why, Her Majesty walked out of her dressing room and tossed the dark green cocktail length dress down onto the bed.

 

“This one will have to do, Olivia,” she said, looking up, finally noticing Joseph.

 

 “Joseph,” she greeted.

 

“Your Majesty,” he said bowing and trying to keep his gaze from roaming over her. His years of training allowed him to project an outward calm while subconsciously revelling in her appearance. She was dressed in a dark green full slip, black stockings and heels. The slip caressed her body as she walked, highlighting her curves and drawing his gaze to her cleavage and soft shoulders. The stockings and heels accentuated her legs. Joseph was amazed he hadn’t yet given into the temptation to reach out and touch her- to see what was the softest, the slip or her skin.

 

“I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she said, turning to her vanity, resting one knee on the bench and leaning toward the mirror to apply her lipstick.

 

Joseph almost groaned at her actions. “Then I’ll just wait in…,” began Joseph, surprised his voice sounded normal. His breathing and heart were racing.

 

“Don’t be silly,” Her Majesty said, blotting her lipstick before picking up her perfume and dabbing some on. “I just need to slip my dress on then I’ll be ready,” she added. “Olivia, please be a dear and find my matching clutch,” said Clarisse.

 

“Of course ma’am,” said Olivia, disappearing into the dressing room to search for the matching clutch.

 

Joseph swallowed thickly, he watched intently as she dabbed perfume behind her ears, then her wrists before finally placing a dab between her breasts. He continued to watch her as she walked over to the bed, picked up the dress, and put it on.

 

“Oh darn,” Clarisse said, realizing she would be unable to pull up the zipper. “Joseph, would you be so kind as to zip me?” she asked, presenting her back to him.

 

Joseph was sure he hadn’t heard her correctly. _‘She didn’t just asked him to..?’_

 

“Joseph?” asked Clarisse, looking over her shoulder at him.

 

“I’m sorry Your Majesty, what did you say?” Joseph asked.

 

Clarisse looked at her Head of Security. ‘ _Surely, he had heard her?’_ “I asked if you would please zip me?” she said, her tone firm as she waited. She was late…they were late and she hated to be late.

 

“That’s what I thought you said,” he mumbled as moved to stand directly behind her. He reached for the zipper and slowly drew it up, reaching the top. His fingers slipped over the skin at the base of her neck as he tucked the zipper under the tab to hide it.

 

Clarisse barely stopped a gasp from escaping her when she felt Joseph’s warm fingers on the base of her neck. She closed her eyes tightly. Perhaps she should have waited for Olivia to assist her with the zipper?

 

“There all done,” he said softly, his breath ghosting across the skin of her neck. He could just smell the soft scent of her perfume and his lips tingled at the thought of kissing her softly scented skin.

 

Clarisse fought to contain the shiver from her body when she felt Joseph’s breath whisper over her skin. She wondered what he would do if she leant back against him? Would he move away or would he move closer? Just the thought of Joseph’s body next to hers, his chest against her back, his arms directly behind hers, his hips nestled against her bottom was enough to cause Clarisse’s nipples to pebble and arousal to pool low in her abdomen. Clarisse took a small step backwards. She could feel the heat from Joseph.

 

Joseph tensed. Clarisse was moving closer to him. He could feel the heat from her body, he could smell her softly scented skin. His shaft filled with each breath he took. If she moved any closer she would definitely feel his body’s reaction to her. He was tempted to reach out and pull her flush against him. Her back to his chest, her arms next to his and his shaft cradled against her lush bottom. But he didn’t move. For some reason he needed her to make the definitive move.

 

 _‘Just a bit closer,’_ Clarisse thought, as she took another minuscule step back. Soon her back would be flush against his chest. Her hips would be against his, her bottom flush against what she was sure would be a sure sign of his arousal. The thought forced a soft moan to escape Clarisse, and she closed her eyes as her body finally came to rest flush against Joseph’s.

 

 Clarisse felt more than heard Joseph’s groan as her body came to rest against his. One hand reached down to grasp the side of his muscled thigh, to keep herself from falling as she felt his breath on her neck. Her eyes closed when she felt the crisp hair of his goatee against the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She shivered, and her nipples tightened further when she felt his soft lips then the slight wetness of his tongue as he kissed and tasted her skin.

 

“Oh Joseph..,” she moaned moving to grant him greater access to her skin. Her knees almost gave out when she felt his strong hands sweep up and over her arms before taking her breasts in their palms, and softly caressing her nipples through her dress.

 

“ _Clarisse...mi reina…mi amor_ ,” growled Joseph as he feasted on the softly scented skin of her neck and caressed her lush breasts. Wanting to taste her lips, Joseph moved one hand from her breast to her chin. He turned her head to the side, capturing her lips in a devastating kiss, his other hand continuing to tease and caress her breast.

 

Clarisse reached up, grabbing the back of Joseph’s head in response to his kiss. As she kissed him she ground her bottom back against him. Joseph groaned at her actions and pulled her tightly against his shaft, thrusting against her and teasing them both. His hand moved from its place on her hip to reach for the hem of her dress. He pulled it up, his fingers sliding over the soft silk of her stockings until he came to the top, his fingers caressing the soft skin above her stockings. He caressed the soft skin, slowly moving closer and closer to Clarisse’s centre. He could feel the heat radiating from her and he wanted nothing more than to slowly caress her heated core. His fingers were poised to do just that when a voice caused both of them to freeze.

 

 “Here you are, Your Majesty,” said Olivia, as she walked out of the dressing room. Her Majesty stood near the bed, while Joseph stood next to the door.

 

 “Thank you, Olivia. Just place it on the vanity,” Her Majesty replied, her back to Olivia.

 

 “Yes ma’am,” said Olivia, placing the clutch on the vanity. “Will that be all ma’am?” she asked.

 

 “Yes, Olivia. I won’t be needing you later this evening, Have a good night,” Her Majesty said, turning and walking over to the vanity.

 

“Good night, Your Majesty,” Olivia said, curtseying briefly. Olivia smiled at Joseph before saying, “Good night Joseph.”

 

Joseph smiled back at Olivia. “Good night Olivia,” he said.

 

When the suite door closed, Joseph moved from his spot by the bedroom door to stand behind Clarisse at the vanity. He groaned softly as Clarisse leant forward, her knee on the bench, adding a bit of lipstick to her lips. She smiled softly through the mirror at Joseph.

 

Joseph couldn’t stop his hand from caressing her hip. “May I ask why you won’t be needing Olivia’s help later this evening?” he asked, his voice rough as his hand glided over her dress.

 

“I decided since you were so helpful with my dress earlier, perhaps you would be equally helpful later,” said Clarisse, the huskiness of her voice bringing a shiver to Joseph.

 

Joseph leaned forward, his body resting flush against hers. He whispered in her ear, “It would be my pleasure.”

 

**The End**


	2. Intertwined- The Second Day of Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams and destinies are often the same.

**Intertwined**

 

 

 Joseph stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and dried off before wrapping the damp towel around his waist. Picking up another towel he wiped the steam from the mirror, before grabbing his shaving gel. He squirted some onto his hand and spread it on his face. As he shaved he hummed softly. Once finished with shaving, he debated trimming his goatee.

  

“ _No...no lo necesita_ ,” he murmured, before picking up his brush and quickly brushing the fringe of hair at the back of his head. He brushed his teeth quickly then turned off the light and entered his bedroom.

  

He pulled the towel off, tossed it into the hamper before climbing onto the bed. He moved up to lay back against the pillows. Tonight he intended to do nothing more strenuous than watch television. He didn’t even intend to get dressed, deciding he deserved the pleasure of laying about his suite naked as the day he was born. Reaching for the remote that lay on the bedside table, Joseph turned the television on. Rather than flip through the channels, he brought up the guide to see what was on. Noticing the second part of the mini-series Joseph wanted to watch was on he turned to the channel, dropped the remote next to him and settled in to enjoy the story of Moorish Spain.

 

Thirty minutes later, soft snores mixed with the action on the screen as Joseph slept, his eyes moving rapidly under his eyelids as he dreamed.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 “Find her and bring her to me,” ordered Yusuf al-Khalid. He watched his men fan out in search of the woman he had come to find. He knew she was somewhere in this fortress hiding. His informants had assured him she was still here, and he knew it was just a matter of time before his men found her, and brought her to him.

 

Sitting down on the vacant throne he accepted the glass of hot mint tea from one of the serving girls. He ignored her obvious attempt at flirting, waving his hand in dismissal. He was in no mood for entertainment. Taking a sip of the hot tea, he waited.

  

The door to the throne room opened and five of his men entered, led by his second-in-command, Saqr. The men stopped in the centre of the room, while Saqr approached the throne. He knelt then rose, walking up the three steps to whisper in his lord’s ear. Their conversation was muted and ended quickly. Saqr took his place next to his lord, waving forward the guard. The guard moved forward, and came to a stop in front of the stairs. The two guards in front moved to the side, revealing a woman who stood in the centre. Her head was bowed and her clothing clearly showed her as Christian.

  

“My Lord, may I present Her Majesty Clarisse Mignonette Gerard Renaldi, Queen of Genovia,” said Saqr in flawless French. At the announcement of her name in her native tongue Clarisse lifted her head and stared directly into the face of her captor, Lord Yusuf al-Khalid, Lord Governor of Denia.

  

Lord Yusuf was just barely able to control his reaction. Before him stood the woman who had haunted his dreams for most of his adult life, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt their destinies would be forever intertwined.

   

~*~*~*~*~*~*

   

Joseph shifted to his side, then to his back and slipped deeper into sleep.

 

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Yusuf stalked through the halls of the Palace. The anger radiating from him caused everyone to scurry out his path. Reaching the door to her apartments he flung it open, the heavy oak to crashing loudly against the wall behind it. Striding across her suite, he flung open the door to her private chambers, ignoring the cries of surprise from her ladies maids. Olivia, her most senior ladies maid stood in front of him, her hands out in front of her, in a beseeching manner.

  

“Please My Lord, she is in the bath,” said Olivia.

  

“Good,” replied Yusuf. “There is little chance for her to escape our discussion,” he said as he pushed past Olivia, and entered the private bathing chamber.

  

Clarisse was just rising out of the bath when Yusuf stormed into her bathing chamber.

 

“Out,” he ordered her attending maids. The maids quickly scurried out of the bathing chamber. Yusuf slammed the door shut, and stalked over to Clarisse. Grabbing her by the hair he pulled her naked body to his and growled out, “You shall marry no man but me,” before slamming his mouth down onto hers and kissing her.

  

Clarisse met his passion with her own. And soon the two were locked in a storm of frenzied fervour that surpassed anything either had ever experienced. When the two finally became one, their cries of pleasure could be heard throughout the corridors of the Palace.

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

Joseph jolted awake, his heart racing and his body quivering in post orgasmic aftershocks. He looked down at his stomach covered in his release. Rising from the bed Joseph grabbed a towel, cleaned himself off before switching off the television and climbing back into bed.

  

Turning onto his side he closed his eyes, slipped back into sleep, and into his dream.

 

  **The End**


	3. Choice- The Third Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarisse needs to make a decision.

**Choice**

 

Clarisse stood looking out the window of her office, deep in thought. She had to come to a decision and soon. The longer she put off making a decision the harder it would become. She knew this from previous experience. She knew she needed to decide- it was either yes or no. Leaning her head against the window she sighed.

 

“That certainly was a heartfelt sigh,” said Rupert.

  

Clarisse whirled around quickly in surprise, her hand going to her chest. “Oh Rupert! You startled me,” she said.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, moving to stand behind her and placing his arms around her waist. She leaned back against his strong chest, taking comfort and strength from his presence.

  

“Still trying to decide,” he asked softly, his face resting against her hair.

 

“Hmm…mmm,” she replied. Clarisse’s eyes drifted closed at the feel of Rupert’s breath ghosting over her hair.

  

“It wouldn’t be so difficult if they weren’t both so highly qualified,” Clarisse said, tilting her head allowing Rupert more access to her ear. “It’s difficult to come to a decision.”

  

“Hmmm,” said Rupert, tracing the shell of Clarisse’s ear with the tip of his tongue. “Perhaps you need to look at it from a different angle,” murmured Rupert, placing small kisses and nips to Clarisse’s ear and neck.

  

Turning in his arms Clarisse looped her arms around her husband’s neck, tilting her face up in anticipation of Rupert’s kiss. “How do you suggest I do……,” she asked, the rest of her sentence cut off by Rupert covering her mouth and kissing her passionately.

  

Minutes passed as husband and wife kissed. Rupert moved Clarisse back towards the wall as his hands and lips caressed and teased her. Now flush with the wall, Rupert relinquished her lips, moving down to taste and kiss her neck.

  

“Which one makes…hmmm…,” he asked as his fingers slipped under Clarisse’s blouse to caress her breasts. “Makes you feel safe?” he asked as he slid to his knees, and placed kisses across her stomach before slipping his hands under her skirt and removing her panties.

  

Clarisse stepped out of her panties, leaning back against the wall once more, she watched heavy lidded as Rupert lifted the hem of her skirt, exposing her womanhood. Her breath caught as her husband buried his face in between her legs.

  

“Joseph…oh…Joseph makes me feel…Oh… Rupert…safe…,” she moaned as Rupert licked and tasted her.

  

Clarisse’s hand buried itself in Rupert’s hair as he made love to her with his mouth. Gasps and moans replaced words as Rupert brought Clarisse to the brink of orgasm. He removed his mouth from her, and stood, quickly unbuckling and unzipping his pants, pulling his erection free before burying himself inside Clarisse.

  

“Then…,” grunted Rupert, “…. it should be Joseph,” as he thrust hard and fast into Clarisse.

  

“Oh Rupert…oh god…yes…Joseph …,” agreed Clarisse as she cried out in pleasure and met her husband’s thrusts with ones of her own. Soon she was coming, her entire body shaking as Rupert continued to thrust into her, his own release overtaking him.

  

Harsh breathing was all that was heard for a few minutes before it was replaced by murmured words of love. The two lovers helped each other straighten their clothes and appearance. Rupert sat in Clarisse’s office chair and pulled her down onto his lap.

  

Tucking her hair behind her ear he asked, “Ramirez then?”

  

Resting her head on top of Rupert’s Clarisse placed a kiss to his hair and answered, “Yes, my new personal bodyguard and our Head of Security will be Joseph Ramirez.”

 

**The End**


	4. Tapas- The Fourth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarisse and Joseph enjoy an intimate dinner and dessert.

**Tapas**

 

 Joseph entered the Dower House. It had been a long week and he was grateful to be back home. He still couldn’t believe his schedule was now busier in his ‘retirement’ than it had been as Royal Head of Security. He thought being a consultant would be a good way to keep himself busy, but he had never anticipated just how busy he would be. Placing his briefcase down in the sitting room and moving into the bedroom he shared with Clarisse he was surprised she wasn’t there to greet him. Shrugging, he pulled his tie off, draped his jacket on the chair and sat down on the bed to remove his shoes.

 

He needed a shower.

  

After removing his shoes, socks and unbuckling his pants he spied an envelope taped to the mirror of Clarisse’s vanity table. It was addressed to him. He pulled it off, opened it and read it.

  

_My Darling Joseph,_

_Please take a shower then join me in the kitchen. I have a surprise for you._

_Love,_

_Clarisse_

_P.S. Where something…loose._

  

Joseph’s eyebrow rose at the post script. Loose, huh? He wondered what his love had planned this time? Since their marriage, Joseph had discovered Clarisse’s adventurous side. Something she had successfully kept hidden since Rupert’s death. Now as a married woman once again she allowed her playful, sexy side to often guide their encounters, and Joseph was inordinately pleased, and very satisfied with the arrangement.

  

Joseph showered quickly then dressed in a pair of loose fitting linen pants and shirt. He decided to remain barefoot. He doubted he would need shoes, or for that matter a shirt but he also knew Clarisse enjoyed undressing him.

  

He walked down to the kitchen, entered it and came to an abrupt stop. His eyes widened at the sight which greeted him. Candle were lit and scattered about on various surfaces. The table was set for two, the settings placed at the upper end of the table, giving the placements an intimate air. He could smell a variety of aromas, some familiar, some not. But what caused the blood in his veins to heat was how Clarisse looked. She was leaning against the kitchen island, dressed in nothing more than a full black slip, stockings and heels. Joseph licked his lips. She looked delicious enough to eat. While most men would be turned on by less clothing Joseph had come to appreciate the appeal of his wife’s conservative lingerie.

 

“Hello darling,” she said softly, walking towards him.

  

“ _Hola querida_ ,” replied Joseph, gathering Clarisse in his arms and kissing her. Clarisse returned Joseph’s kiss with enthusiasm, sighing softly when they finally broke apart.

 

 “I missed you,” said Clarisse, resting her head on Joseph’s chest.

  

“I missed you too, _querida_. But what is all this?” he asked, his face resting in Clarisse’s hair and simply enjoying have her in his arms.

  

“Dinner,” she said, smiling up at him mischievously.

 

 Joseph chuckled. “I can see that but why? Not that I don’t appreciate it…,” he said, but quieted when Clarisse placed a finger to his lips.

  

“Simply because,” answered Clarisse. “Now please sit, while I get everything,” she said, moving out of his arms and toward the stove. “If you would pour the wine while I bring over our dinner,” she said as she retrieved a tray which she carried over. It was filled with a variety of small covered bowls. She quickly arranged the dishes on the table and moved back to the stove to retrieve another tray. This one was artfully decorated with a variety of fruits, olives and cheeses along with two covered dishes. She placed this tray down on the table and sat down in the chair next to Joseph’s.

  

“Tonight we are having tapas,” Clarisse announced as she uncovered each of the bowls revealing a variety of the small dishes. Joseph looked down at the table and noticed there were no forks, knives or spoons anywhere.

 

 “No utensils?” asked Joseph.

 

 “I decided we could forgo utensils this evening in favour of a more personal touch,” replied Clarisse, picking up a perfectly seasoned piece of lamb and holding it to Joseph’s lips for him to eat.

  

Joseph opened his mouth and his lips closed around the lamb and Clarisse’s fingers. He released Clarisse’s fingers only after running his tongue across them.

 

 “Mmmm,” he said, chewing the lamb slowly, enjoying its flavour mixed with Clarisse. Deciding to return the favour, Joseph looked over the selections available. He chose one of the small albóndigas and held it to Clarisse’s lips. Clarisse opened her mouth and gently took the meatball from Joseph’s fingers, making sure to caress his fingertips gently with her lips as she closed her mouth.

 

 “Mmmm….perfect,” she said, after finishing the small meatball.

 

 She and Joseph took turns feeding each other. With each mouthful they teased each other, forcing their desire higher and higher. By the time they finished they had consumed almost all the warm dishes except one.

  

Joseph picked up one of the seasoned mussels and with his thumbnail he expertly released the meat from the shell. Holding the mussel out to Clarisse he waited for her to open her mouth and stick her tongue out. Joseph poured the mussel onto Clarisse’s tongue, groaning at the sight of her catching it and its seasoning on her tongue. It was a sight that mimicked a more intimate one and Joseph was barely able to restrain himself as he watched Clarisse eat the mollusk. As soon as Clarisse swallowed, Joseph immediately covered her lips in a fierce kiss, enjoying the taste of Clarisse mixed with the seasoned mussel.

  

Clarisse picked up another mussel, released its flesh from the shell and held it out for Joseph to eat. Joseph closed his lips around the shell and with his tongue drew the flesh into his mouth. Clarisse moaned at his actions, her arousal slicking her thighs. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to witness Joseph eating another mussel, Clarisse pushed the dish aside and reached for the cold platter.

 

She removed the lids from the bowls, one contained melted chocolate and the other contained crème fraiche. Clarisse choice a chunk of pineapple and dipped into the crème fraiche, before eating it slowly. Joseph watched as Clarisse ate the fruit, his gaze never leaving her lips as she chewed slowly. A small bit of crème fraiche lay on the side of Clarisse’s mouth. Joseph pulled Clarisse onto his lap and covered her mouth with his, licking away the small trace of crème fraiche, his hands caressing her back and sides.

  

Clarisse held tightly onto Joseph, relishing in his kisses and caresses. She could feel his arousal against her bottom. She shifted in his lap, both moaning as she moved against his hard shaft. They continued to kiss and caress each other but soon simple kisses and caresses weren’t enough. Clarisse pulled away from Joseph, breaking their kiss. She stood, then returned to his lap, straddling his legs, her slip pulling up to reveal the lace tops of her thigh highs.

 

 Joseph glanced down at the Clarisse’s thighs. “Thigh highs?” he rasped out, feeling the heat and moisture from her centre on his lap.

  

“Yes,” Clarisse husked, seeking Joseph’s lips once more. Joseph moaned into the kiss as his hands travelled up Clarisse’s legs. He pulled her slip up until his hands rested on her naked bottom. He caressed the soft skin of her bottom, squeezing the firm flesh as his tongue tangled with hers. He pulled her tightly against his arousal, gritting his teeth as she teased herself on his covered flesh.

 

 He moved from her lips to her breasts, kissing and nipping the firm flesh, wetting the material of her slip with his actions before drawing one of her pebbled nipples into his mouth and suckling hard.

  

Clarisse arched her back, grabbing at Joseph’s shoulders and groaning as she forced more of her breast into his mouth. With an audible pop, Joseph released her breast. “Take me out,” he rasped before seeking her other breast.

  

Clarisse reached down between their bodies, fumbling with the tie to his linen pants. Unable to untie it, she reached into his pants, grasped his hard erection and pulled him out of the top of his pants, forcing the waistband of his pants under his balls.

  

Joseph stood rigid, the head of his erection leaking pre-cum. Clarisse ran her finger over the spongy head, gathering some of the liquid on her finger before bringing it up to her lips and sucking her finger into her mouth. Joseph groaned at her actions before lifting her up slightly and pulling her down, entering her moist channel in one smooth stroke.

  

“Ride,” ordered Joseph, gritting his teeth at the exquisite feel of Clarisse.

 

 Clarisse began to move up and down slowly, her body squeezing Joseph each time she moved up. Joseph’s hands squeezed Clarisse’s bottom, taking pleasure in the speed at which Clarisse rode him. But soon the slow speed wasn’t enough, and Joseph began thrusting faster in counter-rhythm to Clarisse. Their thrusts drove their arousal higher and higher until Clarisse erupted in orgasm, her channel rhythmically squeezing Joseph’s shaft. Joseph thrust twice more before he also erupted in orgasm, his essence shooting deep into his wife.

  

The two lovers sat spent on the chair, their breath coming in gasps as they slowly recovered. Shifting slightly on Joseph’s lap, and keeping him buried deep inside her, Clarisse reached back and grabbed an olive, bringing it to Joseph’s lips.

 

 “We still have dessert to finish,” she whispered, as she fed him the olive. As Joseph ate his olive he noticed Clarisse reach for a strawberry, dip it in the melted chocolate before bringing it up to her lips. She bit into the ripe fruit, the juice and some of the chocolate running down her chin to drip onto her cleavage.

  

Joseph’s shaft hardened.

  

It seemed he was going to enjoy dessert ala Clarisse.

  

**The End.**

 

 

 


	5. Hot Baths- The Fifth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot baths are extremely relaxing.

**Hot Baths**

 

Clarisse slipped into the hot bath. She sighed in satisfaction as she relaxed back against the rim of the tub. Today had been exhausting. All she wanted to do was relax in the bath until she pruned then climb into bed and sleep for a week. Or at the very least, until late tomorrow morning. Sighing once more, she closed her eyes and let the hot water relax her.  

 

A soft scratching intruded on her blissful relaxation, and Clarisse opened her eyes, wondering what it could be. Sitting up she looked over the rim of the tub, hoping a field mouse had not found its way into the bathroom. It was not unusual to have one or two field mice wander into the manor. Reginald normally took care of them, swiftly and decisively, often leaving them as tributes for her on the hearthrug. Not seeing any rodents or felines in the bath, she sat back closing her eyes once again. She heard the scratching once more, this time it accompanied by a soft tapping. Looking around the bath, she tried to determine where it was coming from. Another soft tap had her gaze going to the stained glass window opposite the tub. A second set of taps had her rising from the tub, wrapping a bath sheet around her and moving to the window. Reaching the window, she unlatched it and allowed the only movable part- the upper part- to drop down. Clarisse moved to look out when a head popped into view. Clarisse stifled a short scream.

 

“Rupert!” She hissed. “What are you doing?” she asked, staring at her fiancée.

 

“Sneaking into your bath,” he replied matter-of-factly.

  

“W...what?” Clarisse goggled at him, unsure she had heard correctly.

 

Rupert smirked and repeated, “I am sneaking into your bath. Now be a dear, and move back, so I may finish my sneaking. It wouldn’t do to be caught sneaking when the whole idea behind said sneaking is not to be caught.”

  

Clarisse moved back and watched wide-eyed as Rupert popped back out then came through the window feet first, dropping gracefully to the floor. Straightening, Rupert checked his shirt and pants for dirt before pulling Clarisse into his arms and kissing her.

 

 Clarisse struggled for a brief moment, before surrendering to Rupert’s kiss. Any scolding or questions would wait, as at the moment she was rather enjoying being kissed passionately. Or was it ravishingly? Clarisse mentally shrugged, she didn’t care which adverb it was as long as Rupert continued kissing her in the same manner.

  

Finally ending the kiss, Rupert looked down into the face of Clarisse. Her skin was flushed, her eyes were heavy-lidded and her lips were swollen. He loved when she looked like this.

  

Placing another soft kiss to her lips Rupert murmured, “What were you doing before I so rudely interrupted you?”

 

 “I was enjoying a rather nice bath,” she said. “That is until some handsome lunatic interrupted it, and climbed into the bathroom via the window,” she added, smiling up at Rupert.

  

“Hmm…you need to be careful of those handsome lunatics. They tend to do things most of the civilized world frowns on,” said Rupert.

  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Clarisse. “Any suggestions on how to deal with one particular handsome lunatic?” she asked.

  

“Marry him,” offered Rupert. “But first let him help you with your bath?” he suggested, grinning.

  

“Rupert!” Clarisse tried to sound shocked but failed. The thought of Rupert helping her bathe caused a current of longing to shoot through her veins, her nipples to tighten, and a tingle of excitement to settle low in her abdomen.

 

 “Very well,” she said, stepping out of Rupert’s arms, dropping the bath sheet that covered her. As the sheet fell to the floor, she heard Rupert’s indrawn hiss of breath then a guttural moan as she turned to walk over to the tub. She stepped back into the tub, shivering a little at the cooling water. She reached forward to turn the taps back on to warm the water, glancing over at Rupert, who stood completely still watching her every move.

 

 After warming the water, Clarisse picked up the sponge. She poured her favourite bath soap onto the sponge, squeezing it to create a rich lather. She began to slowly wash her left arm then her right, her gaze never leaving Rupert. When she finished her arms, she raised a leg and began to slowly wash it.

  

“Allow me,” said Rupert, moving to the tub, kneeling down and taking the sponge from Clarisse’s hand.

  

Clarisse rested her leg on the side of the tub, as Rupert ran the soft sponge over her skin. His hand trailed after the sponge. “So soft,” he murmured. He stifled a deep groan as he washed the tops of her thigh, the heat from her centre causing his shaft to throb. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, he thought as he fought to maintain his control.

  

Clarisse nipples tightened even more at the feel of Rupert’s hand so close to her centre. She took a deep breath fighting against the urge to beg Rupert to touch her. Looking at her fiancée, she noticed he wasn’t unaffected.

  

A soft feminine smile touched her lips at the realization she could make this man whose reputation was one of complete, and absolute control lose that vaulted control. Clarisse lowered her leg into the water to rinse it then lifted her other leg out. Rupert placed his hand on her calf to hold her leg out of the water as the soapy sponge trailed over her foot, down her calf to her thigh. He stopped just short of her upper thigh. His control was too uncertain to move any closer to her centre. He moved his hand slowly over her soaped skin, enjoying its silky softness before lowering her leg into the water to rinse it.

  

Neither said a word as Rupert picked up the sponge again and waited. Clarisse bent forward, exposing her back. Rupert began to wash her back slowly, watching the soap bubbles trail over her silky skin, hiding then revealing the self same freckled skin. Rupert created swirls of soap on Clarisse’s back, a canvas that featured an infinite combination of designs he was able to paint in using her freckles as a guide.

  

So engrossed in his task that he was surprised when his canvas disappeared under the water, only to rise once more clean, and still possessing those mesmerizing freckles. Rupert gazed down at Clarisse as she leaned back against the edge of the tub, her breasts lapped gently by softly moving water.

  

Rupert swallowed, frozen at the sight of her breasts, their nipples pebbled as she relaxed.  

  

“I can’t,” he murmured, uncertain if Clarisse heard him or not. He was sure she hadn’t because she took his sponge-filled hand and gently placed it on her shoulder, moving it down slowly washing the skin of her upper chest before moving it over the upper swell of her breast.

  

Rupert groaned.

 

 His other hand moved to caress Clarisse’s right breast, his hands moving in tandem, one washing with soap the other with simply water.

 

 “Yesss...,” moaned Clarisse- arching and pushing her breasts further into Rupert’s hand, gasping when he gently squeezed or teased her nipples.

  

Rupert’s control snapped. He dropped the sponge, hauled the soaking wet Clarisse up, out of the tub, and into his arms. He captured her lips as he pulled her down with him to the floor, laying her gently on the discarded bath sheet. Kissing her, he caressed her wet skin, revelling in its silky soft texture. He nipped and tasted the skin of her neck and shoulders before moving down to take a pebbled nipple in his mouth, suckling first one then the other.

  

Clarisse’s hands moved over Rupert’s wet shirt, pulling at the damp material as her legs moved restlessly against his. She wanted to feel his skin against hers!

  

“Off,” she gasped, yanking at the material of his shirt, trying to pull it up off his body. Rupert released her breast with an audible pop, sitting up and yanked off his shirt. He returned to Clarisse, the crisp hair of his chest rubbing sensuously against the soft skin of hers as he placed kisses and nips to the skin of her neck.

  

“Oh…Rupert…,” she moaned. Her hands moved over his muscular back, revelling in the feel of him under her hands. She placed kisses to any part of his skin she could reach. When she felt his hand begin to caress her stomach, then over her hip she shifted trying to urge his hand to where she needed it most. He ignored her silent urging, instead caressing her thigh then up to her bottom before returning to her stomach.

  

“Rupert please…,” she pleaded, wanting to feel his fingers on and in her. Rupert continued to caress her, driving her desire higher and higher. Finally unable to handle his teasing any longer, Clarisse grabbed his hand, placed it between her thighs, moving his hand, forcing him to stroke, and pet her.

  

Rupert growled, the feel of Clarisse’s hot, wet flesh feeding his arousal. He watched as their hands moved in tandem, his shaft throbbing, straining against the confines of his pants. He pushed his erection against Clarisse’s hip, his fingers sliding against her heated flesh before slipping one inside her. He trembled at the feel of her.

  

“ _Oh dieu, Clarisse... si belle_ ,” he moaned, capturing her lips in a devastating kiss.

 

 Clarisse ended their kiss. “Make love to me, Rupert. Please… _faire l'amour avec moi, mon amour_ ,” she said kissing him again.

  

Rupert groaned against her lips, trying to fight against the temptation of making love to Clarisse. He knew he should wait until they were married. Tradition and the law demanded the future wife of the King be a virgin. He knew Clarisse had already gone through the embarrassing examination to insure this as demanded by the law. And he knew the chances of the press discovering any indiscretion on their part was real. But while he knew all this, he was only a man, and when the woman he loved begged him to make love to her he could do nothing, but do as she asked.

  

Rupert broke their kiss. He knelt up, unbuckled, unzipped and pushed his pants and boxers down and off. Stretching out on the side of Clarisse, he was unprepared for Clarisse to take his erection in hand and stroke it slowly. Rupert’s control snapped and he pulled Clarisse under him. “I can’t go slowly,” he rasped, as he knelt above her.

  

“Then don’t,” replied Clarisse, hooking her leg around his hip, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down onto her.

  

Rupert surged forward, his shaft entering Clarisse in one quick thrust. Clarisse panted, her eyes squeezing shut at the feel of Rupert entering her so swiftly.

  

“ _Je suis désolé_ ,” murmured Rupert as he struggled to remain still, trying to give Clarisse time to adjust. He kissed the tears from her cheeks, murmuring soft words as his body trembled, struggling to wait. He felt Clarisse squeeze him softly, then again and he began to move in and out of her.

  

Rupert tried to maintain some control, gritting his teeth, but Clarisse was so soft, so wet, and so hot that the slightest movement from her overrode everything but the need to plunge into her soft body repeatedly until he reached orgasm, shouting his release.

  

Somehow, they managed to climb back into the tub, Clarisse draining then adding more water as Rupert washed the evidence of their lovemaking from their bodies. Once cleaned the two relaxed back in the tub, holding each other and whispering soft words of love before slipping into a light doze.

 

 On Sunday, when Clarisse and her parents visited the Palace dinner, neither Lord nor Lady Gerard made mention of the strange noises that came from their daughters bathroom or the footprints below her bathroom window.

  

After all, they were young once too.

 

 

**The End**


	6. The  Kiss- The Sixth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph tells the story of THE KISS.

**THE KISS**

 

 “ _Yayo_?”

 

“ _Si, mi princesa_?” answered Joseph. He looked down at his great-granddaughter, lying on the sofa with her head on his leg as she watched a movie and he read.

 

 “When did you first kiss Grandmamma?” she asked, turning her head to look up at her Yayo.

  

“Excuse me?” said Joseph. He had not expected his great-granddaughter to ask such a personal question. He and Clarisse made no secret of their love for each other. The family was used to seeing them kiss and touch each other, Amelia often remarking it was their easy affection with each other that helped to keep her grounded. However, it was unusual for Cathleen to ask such a personal question.

 

 “When did you and Grandmamma share THE KISS?” asked Cathleen. “The type of kiss that showed how much you loved Grandmamma,” she added.

  

Joseph looked at Cathleen, realizing exactly to what she was referring. “Is there a particular reason you are asking this, _princesa?_ ” He waited for Cathleen to answer. He already knew he would answer her question but he wanted to know if there was a particular reason for her to ask this particular question at this time. She was in her first year of University, enjoying the freedom University brought her. He had not been informed by Scott of any new young men on the horizon; Scott was extremely protective of his Princess, if anyone would know of a new ‘interest’ it would be he.

  

“There is a man…,” began Cathleen.

 

 “How old is this man?” asked Joseph.

  

“That really doesn’t…,” said Cathleen, trying to deflect the question.

  

“How old, _niña_?” asked Joseph, the tone of his voice leaving no doubt that he wanted a truthful answer.

 

 Cathleen sat up, turning to look at her Yayo. Looking directly into his eyes, she said, “Thirty-two.”

 

 “His name?” demanded Joseph.

  

“ _Yayo_ …,” pleaded Cathleen, taking Joseph’s hand in hers. “Please. I promise... after…we will talk about him but please….tell me about the first kiss…please,” she said.

  

Joseph looked into his great-granddaughters eyes, a mixture of appeal, curiosity and hope shown back at him. He rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb, and sighed. He would do as she asked.

 

 “Alright, but after…,” said Joseph.

 

“After, I will tell you everything. I promise,” agreed Cathleen, lifting her Yayo’s hand up and placing a soft kiss to it.

  

Joseph caressed her cheek gently, before dropping his hand and beginning to speak.

 

 “The first time I kissed your Grandmamma…the very first time we shared what you call THE KISS was after your Mama’s first Wango lesson…”

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 “You have been wearing black too long,” said Joseph, reaching in front of Her Majesty and turning the music back on.

  

Clarisse looked at her dear friend. She sighed, and gave him an exasperated look. They had had this discussion before. Prior to Philippe’s death, he and Joseph had begun urging Clarisse to leave off the black, to add colour to her wardrobe once more. Both Rupert and Philippe abhorred blatant displays of outward mourning. Rupert had gone as far as informing Clarisse he expected her not to participate in the old-fashioned display of mourning he was sure Parliament would demand. He even had Joseph promise him, with Clarisse present, he would ensure she left off the black as soon as possible.

  

However, after Rupert’s death, Clarisse found herself unable to wear anything other than black. It hurt too much to see herself in colours, and not have Rupert there to appreciate them. When Philippe died, it seemed only natural to remain in black- protected and secured.

 

Now Joseph was telling her she had been wearing black too long. Before she could make a response Joseph was leading her out onto the dance floor to dance what sweet Amelia had dubbed ‘ _the Wango’_.

  

It had been two years since she had last danced the traditional dance. The last time she had, had been with Rupert, then Joseph at the Pear Festival. Clarisse smiled softly at the memory of dancing it later the same evening with Rupert in their suite. It had led to a night of beautiful lovemaking. ‘ _Oh, how I miss him_ ,’ she thought.

  

Joseph twirled her out then back in. As she twirled back in she met Joseph’s chest and she stumbled a bit, her hand missing his at first as she suddenly became aware of Joseph’s body. Soft warmth began to spread through her body as she realized just how intimately they were dancing. She had never danced this way before with Joseph. Before they always kept a slight distance but now she found herself moving against him as she used to move against Rupert. _What was happening?_

  

Clarisse looked into Joseph’s eyes and her breath caught.

  

Joseph gazed at Clarisse, the love he felt for her easily seen in his eyes. He wished she would look into his eyes, see the feelings he held for her. But, she kept her gaze just below his. Joseph eyes drifted down her body, relishing in the soft sway of her hips near his as they danced. He loved to watch her graceful body move through the simple steps of the dance.

  

When King Rupert, may he rest in peace, was alive, Joseph used to envy the man each time he danced the traditional dance with Her Majesty. Their bodies would often be so close that is was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. Their movements were sensual, loving, and Joseph often wished Clarisse would dance with him in the same manner. However, his wish had never been granted. Though he enjoyed dancing the traditional dance with Her Majesty, he knew something elemental was missing when they danced.

  

Joseph’s breath caught when he felt Clarisse move closer to him. Her hips met his, each step of the dance bringing their bodies in closer proximity until they were dancing not as two individuals but as a single entity. His gaze flew up and he looked directly into her eyes. His breath caught as he saw for the first time the true Clarisse. The final strains of the traditional dance faded away, leaving only the sound of soft breathing in the ballroom.

  

Clarisse stared into Joseph’s eyes. What she saw in them caused her to move instinctively closer to him, seeking something that she was afraid to name. Her eyes drifted closed as she leaned into him. When she felt his lips gently touch hers, she sighed. The kiss lasted just mere seconds, but it changed everything. Her soul now felt lighter than it had in months and her body felt as if it were drifting on a soft breeze. When she opened her eyes, she saw her future reflected in Joseph’s gaze. Raising her hand, she gently cupped his cheek, tracing its contour with her thumb before stepping back. She smiled softly at him. She turned and with another soft glance over her shoulder, walked away.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 “…was THE KISS,” finished Joseph.

  

“Wow, Yayo…,” Cathleen replied softly.

  

Her Yayo’s story was beautiful, tender and far more intense then she had expected. She now understood what she was feeling. She knew what her future was; she just hoped her family would support her in her choice.

  

Joseph watched as his great-granddaughter thought about his and her Grandmamma’s story. He saw the look that came over her face. He rubbed the top of her hand and in a tender voice said; “Now _niña_ , I’ve told my story. I think it is time for you to tell yours.”

 

 

**The End**

 


	7. Costume- The Seventh Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A costume ball brings the Old West to Genovia.

**Costume**

  

The charity committee had made their final decision on the theme for this year’s ball. The theme was classic television and encompassed all television programming prior to 1990. Clarisse tapped the invitation against her lip pondering her choices.   
  
  
She knew whatever character she chose would have to reflect her standing as Queen. Which ruled out Mrs. Slocombe from _Are You Being Served?_ it wouldn’t do to have the Queen impersonate a sales clerk. Although, she would love to hear Elsie Penworthy’s reaction to her showing up at the ball with bouffant hair in a charming shade of dark blue. Penworthy would probably compare her hair with her eyes, remarking on how it was obvious which colour was Her Majesty’s favourite.   
  
  
Clarisse wondered how the public would react if they knew her favourite colour was black, but only when it was worn by her Head of Security. _‘What that man can do for a pair of black pants and shirt,’_ she thought. She entertained the idea of showing up as Mrs. Peel from _The Avengers_ but immediately dismissed the idea. She did not think Joseph would enjoy her attending the ball wearing a skintight leather cat suit.   
  
  
‘ _Although…no Clarisse_ ’, she told herself firmly, forcibly stopping THAT particular train of thought. It wouldn’t do for her to wander down that familiar fantasy road. She had concerns more pressing at this moment. And the most pressing was what character was she going to go as to the charity ball?   
  
  
Three days later Clarisse was no closer to deciding on a television character. Madame Martine was making noises about needing to know her choice in order for her to begin creating Her Majesty’s costume. The charity ball was less than a fortnight from this Saturday. A fact pointed out to Clarisse quite frequently.   
  
  
Dropping down onto the settee in her sitting room- if Mia had been here she would have said she had flopped down on it, but Clarisse chose to think of it as more of a graceful fall onto the cushions- she grabbed the remote to the satellite television system, and switched it on. She hoped something was on that would grab her attention or at least help with her decision. Twenty minutes later, she was still no closer to coming to a decision when she turned the channel. The show on was one that was a favourite of hers years ago, she and Rupert would watch it whenever they could. The leading lady was a strong female character and Clarisse smiled, her decision made. She picked up the phone, dialled Madame Martine’s extension and ten minutes later the two ladies were discussing various styles of costume for Her Majesty. An hour later Clarisse made her final decision on the style and colour of her costume.  
  
  
“Your Majesty, the colour and style will be ideal,” said Madame Martine. “But are you sure you do not want to the cleavage just a bit lower?”  
  
  
“I don’t think so but… leave it unfinished and I will decide once I try it on,” said Her Majesty.  
  
  
Madame Martine smiled in answer. She and her assistants gathered their various things and bade Her Majesty a good evening, curtseying in respect before leaving. Joseph passed the Royal seamstress and her assistants in the hall, wishing them a good evening. Anton knocked on the door to Her Majesty’s suite, opening it when she answered with ‘Enter.”   
  
  
“Be back in two hours,” Joseph told Anton, relieving the younger guard of duty.   
  
  
“Yes sir,” replied Anton, hurrying off to dinner.   
  
  
Joseph closed the door before turning to face Her Majesty. “Since Madame Martine was here does this mean you have made a decision concerning your costume?” he asked.   
  
  
“Yes, it does,” answered Clarisse, patting the cushion next to her. Joseph sat down.   
  
  
“And?” he asked, wanting to know whom Clarisse had chosen.   
  
  
He watched as Clarisse picked up the remote and switched the television on, the show, which influenced her decision on once again. As the female lead spoke with one of the male actors on the show, Clarisse pointed at the screen.   
  
  
Joseph looked at the screen, looked at Clarisse, and looked at the screen once again. “Her?” he asked.   
  
  
Clarisse smirked, nodding once. Joseph started to chuckle, imagining the reaction when Clarisse arrived dressed as the female lead.   
  
  
“I suppose you want me to dress to reflect the same show?” he asked, smiling at Clarisse.  
  
  
Clarisse smiled. “You will be there…so…,” she trailed off, already knowing Joseph and her guard would dress in outfits that would compliment her costume.  
  
  
“Of course,” Joseph said, looking at the TV screen once again. “So…your costume? Will it be similar to what she is wearing now?” asked Joseph.   
  
  
Clarisse looked at the television, and then turned to Joseph. “Perhaps,” she answered, fighting a smile at Joseph’s less than pleased look.   


 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  
  
  
The night of the costume ball arrived and Clarisse was dressed and wearing her cloak when Joseph arrived to escort her down to the waiting cars. When he walked into her suite, Clarisse could not take her eyes off him. Instead of his normal black attire, Joseph was dressed in a pair of tight, cream coloured denim pants, a dark maroon shirt that emphasized the width of his shoulders and brought out the blue of his eyes. A western style bolo tie, along with a soft brown leather vest that further emphasized his muscular build, and what Clarisse was sure were a comfortable pair of cowboy boots.   
  
  
“Do I meet Her Majesty’s expectations?” he asked. He knew he looked good in his outfit. He had chosen it specifically for the style, fit and comfort. His men were dressed similarly, most in comfortable blue jeans and dark western-style shirts. Each man wore a soft, suede jacket for both comfort and concealment. He had been tempted to outfit the entire guard tonight in holsters but didn’t think Her Majesty would appreciate the extra authenticity. Although he would have enjoyed seeing Mabrey’s reaction.  
  
  
“Without a doubt,” replied Clarisse, smiling at Joseph. She slipped her arm into his, and he escorted her down to the waiting cars. At the cars, Clarisse laughed delightfully, as her entire guard touched the brim of their cowboy hats and greeted her. “Good evening ma’am,” they said in unison.   
  
  
“Gentlemen,” she said, smiling before slipping into the limousine, Joseph following. Soon they were on their way to the costumed ball.   
  
  
The normal fanfare greeted their arrival. Once inside Clarisse untied her cloak and removed it, accepting Joseph’s assistance with a smile. Her smile widened when she heard Joseph’s low growl. Evidently, he was not completely happy with her dress.   
  
  
“Is there a problem Joseph?” she asked, turning around to face her Head of Security. She stifled the laugh that threatened at the look on Joseph’s face when he saw the front of her dress.   
  
  
“No, Your Majesty,” Joseph ground out, trying to control his reaction. He had the overwhelming urge to toss the cloak back around Clarisse, grab her hand, and find a dark corner where he could show his undivided appreciation for her costume. Handing her cloak to a waiting attendant as Clarisse straightened her dress and took her place at the entrance, Joseph waved Shades over.   
  
  
“I want all eyes on her tonight,” ordered Joseph. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”  
  
  
Looking over at Her Majesty then glancing at the attending guards, Shades replied, “I don’t think that will be a problem considering...”   
  
  
The low growl and glare from Joseph cut off the rest of Shades’ statement. The announcement of Her Majesty interrupted any further conversation between the two men. Joseph took his normal position behind Her Majesty and Shades walked over to the rest of the guard. He relayed Joseph’s orders quickly and the men began to disperse to various areas. Carlos waited until the rest of the men had left before asking, “The boss’s reaction?”  
  
  
Shades looked at the other man, smirked and said, “What do you think?”  
  
  
“This is certainly going to be an interesting night,” said Carlos before moving to his position on the outer edge of the ballroom.   
  
  
“You got that right,” murmured Shades before taking his position. Watching the boss, watch Her, he wondered how long it would be before the first casualty of the evening. Thank goodness, the boss wasn’t carrying tonight; otherwise, they would run out of places to bury the bodies.   
  
  
Clarisse laughed as she danced again with Sebastian. She was enjoying herself, more so than she thought she would. Of course, that may have been because she had so far avoided dancing with Mabrey and his cronies, while at the same time, sharing two dances with Joseph. Looking around, she noticed Joseph leaning against one of the pillars near the terrace door, his booted foot resting against the column and his arms crossed. He looked every inch the relaxed cowboy, but Clarisse knew while his stance was relaxed he was alert to every movement in the ballroom.   
  
  
Returning her attention to Sebastian, who was dressed as Jeeves from _Jeeves and Wooster,_ Clarisse said, “Sebastian, you and Maria make a fabulous Jeeves and Wooster.”   
  
  
“Thank you, Your Majesty. And may I say you and Joseph make a wonderful looking Miss Kitty and Marshal Dillon,” replied Sebastian.   
  
  
Clarisse smiled.   
  
  
“And speaking of the Marshal, I think it is time to relinquish you to his care,” said Sebastian, dancing them over to where Joseph leaned against the pillar. As they approached, Joseph stood up straight. The music ended and with a bow, Sebastian delivered Her Majesty to Joseph’s care. Out of the corner of his eye, Sebastian noticed Viscount Mabrey making his way over to where he and Her Majesty stood. Knowing Her Majesty did not want to dance with the Viscount, Sebastian said in a voice louder than was necessary, “Perhaps a bit of air might help, Your Majesty.”   
  
  
Clarisse looked confused for a moment, wondering what Sebastian was talking about but seeing his quick glance to the side, Clarisse noticed the Viscount heading their way. Sending a grateful look to Sebastian, Clarisse answered, “Thank you Sebastian, a bit of air would be perfect.  
  
  
“Joseph,” she said. Joseph held his arm out, tucked hers into his and they escaped the ballroom and the Viscount.   
  
  
Out in the cool night, Joseph informed his men where they were, escorting Clarisse down the dimly lit terrace to the garden below. Neither said anything, words unnecessary. Shades and Carlos followed discreetly, while Anton and Miguel prevented anyone inside from following outside.   
  
  
Clarisse breathed in the heady perfume of the late summer flowers, enjoying their scent. Looking over at her Head of Security Clarisse stopped in front of him. “Joseph, you haven’t said anything about my costume. Don’t you like it?” she asked.   
  
  
Joseph murmured something. Clarisse did not hear what he said and moved closer to him.   
  
  
“I’m sorry, Joseph. What did you say?” she asked.   
  
  
Clarisse fought to keep from smiling. She knew Joseph was not happy with her costume but could not resist teasing him. Joseph looked down at Clarisse. He could see the small smile playing around her lips and his control snapped. Pulling her into his arms, he covered her mouth with his, kissing her forcibly. His hands moved over the bare skin of her arms and her shoulders as he kissed her.   
  
  
For a moment, Clarisse was shocked into immobility by Joseph’s kiss but soon surrendered to the passion of his embrace. Lifting her arms, she looped them around his neck and returned his kiss with ferocity of her own. Her body pressed tightly to his, her exposed skin relishing in the feel of him as his vest and shirt teased her. The kiss soon deepened, changing in intensity. No longer was it simply passionate, now it was deeply sensual, igniting a feeling inside Clarisse that she had not felt in years. Their caresses also changed. At first ardent and fervent they were now soft and tender. Finally breaking the kiss Joseph looked down at the woman he loved.   
  
  
“Does that answer your question on how I feel about your costume?” asked Joseph.   
  
  
Clarisse tilted her head to the side and with a smile said, “Well Marshal, I’m not sure. Would you mind repeating your answer?”   
  
  
“Not at all, ma’am. Not at all,” Joseph murmured, kissing Clarisse again.   
  


**The End**

 

 


	8. The Lady Doth Protest- The Eighth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rupert begins his courtship of a reluctant Clarisse.

**The Lady Doth Protest**

 

 

Rupert watched Lady Clarisse Gerard as she waltzed around the ballroom. She was beautiful, witty, intelligent and admired. There were few, Mabrey and his cronies notwithstanding, who after meeting her did not actively seek her company. She was kind, which made even the shyest comfortable, and she gave her whole attention to whomever she was speaking with. She was perfect, in every respect, and he had fallen in love with her. However, while he loved her, she held him in low regard. _‘Who was he kidding’_ , he thought. She hated his guts!

  

Although hate was perhaps too strong a word for what she felt towards him; strong dislike might be a better description. Regardless of how it was termed, Lady Clarisse definitely did not enjoy his person or company. This, if it had been any other woman, would not have been a problem. He would have simply shrugged, and moved on. Unfortunately, in this case, that was impossible. He was in love with her and had informed his parents that she was the one he was going to marry. Their Majesties were ecstatic, at least until he had informed them that one, he had not approached Lady Clarisse or her parents yet, and two- Lady Clarisse seemed to hate his guts.

  

King Anton coughed, to cover the laugh threatening to escape at his son’s declaration. “That is unfortunate,” he said.

  

“Extremely,” agreed Queen Margaret, fighting the urge to giggle.

 

Rupert did not notice their amusement. Instead, he stared out his father’s office window, deep in thought. By the time Rupert had finished speaking to his parents, Their Majesties were hard pressed to control their mirth. They had waited a few minutes after his departure before succumbing, their laughter filling the office. When they finally regained a measure of control, they agreed this situation would benefit their son.

  

“I do hope she doesn’t break his heart,” Queen Margaret said. For all her son’s faults, he was a good man, a fine prince and capable of great love.

 

 King Anton took his wife in his arms. Placing a soft kiss to her hair he replied, “She won’t. But she will lead him a merry chase.”

  

Margaret looked up at her husband. “As I led you?” she asked.

 

 “Yes,” Anton answered, capturing his wife’s lips in a passionate kiss. His last thought concerning his son was if Lady Clarisse was anything like his Margaret, his son would be a very lucky man.

 

The waltz had finally ended. Rupert knew this was his chance. Excusing himself, he made his way over to Lady Clarisse. Accompanied by soft whispers he made his way over to Lady Clarisse. By the time he stopped behind Lady Clarisse, the whole of the ballroom was buzzing.

 

 Clarisse knew the minute he stopped behind her. She had been watching Prince Rupert all evening. Secretly, of course. It would not do for him to realize she was watching him. She watched as he danced with woman after woman, performing his duty dances with aplomb and ease. She had watched as he danced with only three women more than once. One was Lady Nicole, his cousin. She was married to Lord Thomas Fallon, a childhood friend of Rupert’s.

  

‘ _His Highness Prince Rupert,’_ Clarisse chided herself. _‘Not Rupert…His Highness…you have to stop calling him by his first name.’_

  

The second was his mama, Queen Margaret. Clarisse liked Her Majesty. She was kind, considerate and witty. Clarisse was never nervous when she spoke to her. In fact, Clarisse often had to remind herself she was the Queen. Clarisse was so comfortable with her she found herself talking to her as she did her own mother. The first time she had spoken to Queen Margaret like that Clarisse had been mortified. But Her Majesty had simply laughed delightfully, squeezed Clarisse’s hand and told her she loved Clarisse being comfortable enough with her to address her as she would her own mother.

  

Clarisse was extremely careful never to address Her Majesty informally in public or in the presence of anyone other than His Majesty. Not even Rupert knew of their weekly teas, something that surprised Clarisse. Rupert was often in residence when she met his mama for tea but she never encountered… _’Prince Rupert, Clarisse…or His Highness…not Rupert,’_ she corrected herself, again. Would she ever refer to him as anything other than Rupert?

  

The third was Lady Amanda, his godmother, better known as The Dragon, a moniker that fit the older woman. She was outspoken, cared little for most of the Genovian Parliament- she referred to them as self-important twits- and for some odd reason had taken an instant liking to herself. Clarisse still found it odd Lady Amanda liked her.

  

Clarisse took a breath, clasped her hands together in front of her and turned, calm and composed to face Rupert.

  

“Lady Clarisse, may I have this dance?” Rupert asked, smiling.

 

Clarisse knew she could not refuse. To refuse a dance with His Highness Prince Rupert would be rude, not to mention social suicide. Knowing she simply could not say no, a fact Clarisse knew Rupert was well aware of, she smiled sweetly in response, the smile never reaching her eyes. “Of course Rup...,” began Clarisse, before clearing her throat and finishing with, “Your Highness.”

 

Rupert fought the smile that threatened at her almost use of his first name. _‘Evidently, she didn’t dislike him as much as he thought.’_

  

Rupert led her onto the dance floor, and the first strains of Genovia’s traditional dance filled the air. Clarisse shot a glare at Rupert, which he responded to by smiling. He had planned this, she realized.

  

_‘Oh… how she hated him!’_

 

They danced the traditional dance and before she could escape Rupert’s presence he swept her into the waltz immediately following.

  

Clarisse did her best to appear as if she was enjoying her waltz with Rupert, but it took all her considerable acting skills, which were severely limited to do so. Rupert knew Clarisse was not happy dancing a second dance with him, and so he did not fight the temptation to waltz her toward the terrace doors. Stopping at them, Rupert tucked Clarisse’s arm into his, and keeping a tight grip on her hand forced her to accompany him out onto the terrace and down into the garden.

  

Clarisse followed, fuming the whole way. Short of yanking her arm and hand away from Rupert, and causing a scene doing so, she had little choice but to follow him. However, once they reached the garden, out of sight and sound of the ballroom, the guests and his parents she would give him a piece of her mind!

 

Reaching a private section, as private as can be with security personnel stationed about, in the garden, Rupert relinquished his hold on Clarisse’s hand and stepped back to wait. His wait did not last long.

  

“How dare you,” seethed Clarisse. “How dare you force me to accompany you to the garden! Now everyone will think…”

  

“Think what?” asked Rupert.

  

“Think that you and I…that we are… that…,” Clarisse spluttered angrily.

  

“That we are enjoying an assignation in the garden,” offered Rupert.

  

“Yes!” fumed Clarisse.

  

“Would that be so bad?” asked Rupert.

  

“With you? Yes,” seethed Clarisse.

  

“Why?” asked Rupert. He was enjoying this. Clarisse was even more beautiful when she was angry. Rupert was fascinated watching her.

  

“Because… because…,” stammered Clarisse, trying to think of a reason why. Suddenly, she latched onto a reason and blurted it out. “Because you are an ass,” she said, before whirling around angrily.

 

Rupert’s laughter filled the quiet air of the garden. Reaching out for Clarisse, he turned her around, pulled her to him and bent his head toward hers. “The lady doth protest too much,” he said just before his lips captured hers in a devastating kiss.

  

Clarisse tried to struggle. She truly did, but the feel of Rupert’s lips on hers, of his arms holding her tightly and his hands caressing her back eroded all her protests. She simply surrendered to his kiss, revelling in the sensations that Rupert evoked. When he finally ended the kiss minutes later, Rupert looked down into the face of Clarisse, her eyes closed and a dreamy expression on her face. That changed almost immediately when Clarisse realized Rupert had stopped kissing her.

 

Angry at herself for succumbing to his kiss, Clarisse reacted in a manner that was unusual for her. She stomped on the top of Rupert’s foot with her heel, and pushed him away. He landed on his arse in the damp grass. Not bothering to see if he was fine, Clarisse stalked away angrily.

  

Rupert sat on the grass, rubbing his foot, watching Clarisse stalk away, an idiotic besotted smile on his face. Evan, one of the guards stationed in the garden, who had witnessed the entire episode, walked over to His Highness and offered a hand up.

  

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” asked Evan, once Rupert regained his feet.

  

“I’m fine Evan,” replied Rupert, limping from the pain of Clarisse’s well-placed heel to the top of his foot. “You saw?”

  

A short nod answered his question.

  

“I’m going to marry her,” Rupert said to the older guard. Evan nodded once again. He was not sure what he was supposed to say to that announcement.

  

“But first,” began Rupert, “I am going to invest in a few pairs of thick boots.”

  

“That might be best sir,” answered Evan, as he helped His Highness back to the terrace.

  

 

**The End**


	9. Home Safe- The Ninth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rupert makes it home safe.

**Home Safe**

 

Clarisse stood in the doorway watching her two young sons as they slept. They had _camped_ out in the formal dining room, turning the long table into a huge tent-like structure. Linens covered the entire table, and the chairs placed just right increasing the size of their tent. She smiled softly, happy that they seemed to have enjoyed themselves but a bit sad also. They were supposed to be camping out in the Reserve with their father but thanks to the inability of international leaders to come to an agreement, Rupert was still at the trade conference. The boys were disappointed, but Clarisse did her best to cheer them up. When she suggested that they camp out in the dining room, they at first did not find the idea appealing. However, when she had shown them how, as a girl, she used to make tents out of the dining room furniture they immediately seized onto the idea and created their tent.

 

 Now they were asleep in their tent exhausted after hours of playing.

 

“Impressive,” a voice said behind her.

  

Clarisse whirled around surprised. “Rupert!” she exclaimed. “When…how?” she asked. “You look exhausted,” said Clarisse, taking his hand in hers and leading the way to their suite.

  

“I am. The conference ended this afternoon and we left as soon as we were able. Were the boys terribly disappointed?” asked Rupert. He hated when he was unable to fulfil a promise to his sons.

  

“A bit, but I did my best to come up with an alternative,” said Clarisse.

  

“Considering the size of the tent I saw, I would say you did more than your best,” replied Rupert.

  

Clarisse smiled in response. Entering their suite, Rupert walked to the bedroom while Clarisse wished Maggie, her ladies maid and James, Rupert’s valet a good night. She entered the bedroom and closed the door.

 

The shower was already running. Clarisse undressed quickly, and entered the bathroom. She stood in the doorway enjoying the view of her husband in the shower before stepping inside to join him. Picking up the soap and sponge, she began to gently soap his back, moving down to his toned buttocks then his legs and back up again. Neither said a word as she gently washed him. A slight push to Rupert’s hip had him turning around. Clarisse repeated her actions to the front of his body- first across his shoulders, then under his arms, across his muscular chest, over his toned stomach and across his hips. She knelt down in order to reach his thighs, then his calves and finally over his feet. She had left the most intimate part of him for last. Reaching up with the soap, she took his semi-erect penis in her hand and soaped it gently. She moved her hand over him, cleaning ever inch of him. She pulled back the foreskin and gently soaped under and around the head. Her fingers then moved down to soap his testicles, rolling the flesh in her fingers.

  

Rupert moaned at the feel of Clarisse’s hands as she gently cleaned him. The exhausted feeling, which had permeated every cell of his body, was rapidly replaced with desire.

 

Rupert reached down and pulled Clarisse up and into his arms. He captured her lips in a soft kiss as the water rained down on the two of them, rinsing the soap from his body and wetting Clarisse. Clarisse deepened the kiss. She had missed Rupert. She wanted him…now! There would be plenty of time later for slow lovemaking but not now. Now she needed him too much to go slow.

  

Clarisse ground herself against him, teasing them both. Rupert moaned and pushed Clarisse against the shower wall, lifting her high up into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him tightly against her. Rupert’s mouth latched onto a nipple and suckling the berried tip, he let Clarisse slip down, his erection sliding into her. She was hot, wet and he slid into her easily. They both moaned at the feel of each other. Their rhythm was fast and hard. A rhythm designed and fed by passion and desire. Skin moved against skin in pursuit of nothing but pleasure. Soon their cries of completion were heard, and the lovers panted and gasped in exhaustion.

  

Once recovered, they washed, rinsed and made their way to bed, sated and sleepy. Rupert pulled Clarisse into his arms, kissed her softly and slipped into sleep. Clarisse followed moments later.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse woke before dawn and reached for Rupert. She was not surprised to find him not in the bed.

  

Smiling softly, she was sure she knew exactly where he was and was positive two young boys would be thrilled when they woke. Snuggling down into the warm bed, Clarisse drifted back to sleep, pleased her entire family was home and safe.

  

**The End**

**  
**


	10. Cream Cashmere- The Tenth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph’s dreams of cream cashmere.

**Cream Cashmere**

 

 

Joseph closed his eyes, shook his head then re-opened his eyes, hoping the vision in front of him dressed in cream cashmere had disappeared. It had not, and now it was moving toward him.

  

He closed his eyes once again, counted to ten and opened them once more. The vision was gone. He sighed in relief, and then choked when he felt a warm hand on the front of his pants. Looking down his eyes widened as his vision, dressed now in little more than a few scraps of silk, slowly pulled his zipper down, all the while keeping her gaze locked on his.

  

He closed his eyes again, this time praying, for what he was not sure, but praying nonetheless. His eyes flew open in shock when he felt her warm, wet mouth close over the head of his erection and swallow him slowly. Somehow, his pants were completely gone, but before he could wonder why every thought flew out of his head as she increased the suction on his erection and her fingers began to play with his balls.

  

He eyes slid closed again.

  

When he opened them next, it was to the sight of her above him as she rode his cock. She was hot, wet and oh so tight, and he could do nothing but stare at her as she played with her nipples, pulling and tweaking them in rhythm with her riding. The feel of her around and on him was overriding everything and his eyes slid closed once more.

 

When he opened his eyes the next time, darkness greeted him along with the realization that he was tied down to a bed, his hard cock pointing straight up, throbbing and leaking, his balls tight against his body. He could hear whispers in the surrounding darkness, before he could ask who was there; she appeared out of the darkness, a vision in black leather. She trailed a gloved hand up his body as he strained against the cuffs that secured him to the bed. When she reached his cock, she gripped it in her leather-covered hand, and stroked him ever so slowly a few times. He whimpered when she released his cock but his whimpers soon turned to deep moans as she twisted and pulled his nipples, the sensation shooting directly to his cock. When she grabbed his cock once more, stroking it firmly while twisting his nipple his moans turned to howls, his orgasm overtaking him, forcing his eyes closed again.

  

When he opened his eyes again, he was sitting in a chair in Her Majesty’s office, with the setting sun streaming in through the terrace windows. He looked around confused and disoriented for a moment.

  

“Did you have a nice nap?” Her Majesty asked. Joseph could hear her chair slide back as she stood. He didn’t have a chance to answer before she walked around the shadowed desk and into the light of the setting sun.

  

Joseph eyes widened and he swallowed loudly.

  

Her Majesty was wearing cream cashmere.

 

**The End**


	11. Dark Warrior- The Eleventh Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Clarisse meets a familiar dark warrior.

**Dark Warrior**

 

 

 The clang of metal on metal filled the night air as her guard fought against the attacking barbarians. Soon the sheer numbers of the barbarians overwhelmed her well-trained force and her men surrendered. She would have stayed inside her tent, awaiting her captors if she had not heard the order to kill her defenders. Ignoring any personal danger, she tore open the entrance to her tent and shouted, “No!” her clear voice carrying to every corner of the encampment.

 

Her shout stayed the arms of those intent on murder, and every eye turned to look at her. What they saw filled them with awe. She resembled Erecura, wife of the Dis Pater- the Dark One, Lord of the Underworld. The warriors were followers of Dis Pater, and sworn to protect his Lady Erecura. Swords dropped and men knelt in the presence of their Lady. Clarisse looked around, confused as to the barbarians’ reaction.

  

Why were they kneeling? What was going on?

  

However, before she could vocalize her questions, a rider and horse appeared, and the kneeling men eagerly made way for the pair. Clarisse watched wide-eyed as the rider, dressed in black armour and leathers, with a great black cloak that seemed to float behind him as if buoyed by a non-existent breeze rode forward.

 

His face was hidden in shadow, but his muscular arms held the reigns of his huge black stallion with ease, and a gentleness that seemed in conflict with his dark façade. Clarisse stood completely still as he reigned in his huge beast just inches from where she stood. His steed was even larger up close than she had originally thought, and it’s eyes seemed to reflect the fires that burned around the encampment. The rider dismounted with grace and ease, offering a token of affection to his mount before dropping the reigns and letting the stallion stand.

  

What surprised Clarisse at first glance of the rider was his physical stature. He was of average height and build, but he projected a physicality that lent him an aura of a man much taller and more muscular. His face was covered with a well-trimmed beard that seemed to add to his aura of danger.

  

The second thing which surprised her was his eyes. They were blue, but a blue that at times appeared almost grey then black. However, it was not just the colour of his eyes that intrigued her; it was the look in them. She could swear she had seen his eyes somewhere else, at some point in time. They were familiar, tickling a memory that seemed lost in the depths of a dream.

  

The warrior moved forward, and Clarisse found herself matching his movements with ones of her own. When he took her in his arms, his cloak wrapping around and securing them in its warm embrace, Clarisse offered no resistance. When he stared into her eyes, she felt a frisson of desire and excitement rush through her blood. Her lips tingled in sensation at the thought of kissing this dark warrior. She knew the moment she kissed him, her entire world would change but she felt no fear. She knew she had nothing to fear from this man. Regardless of his reputation, she knew, without a doubt she would never be harmed by this man.

 

No longer able to resist the temptation of this man, Clarisse closed the distance between their mouths and placed a soft kiss to his lips. A kiss that soon changed in depth and tempo. Clarisse surrendered to the dark sensuality of his lips. She yielded to the sensation of floating on a ribbon of velvet darkness as they kissed.

  

Clarisse couldn’t say how long she kissed this dark warrior for time seemed to stand still as she floated on the ribbon of dark night, but when the kiss finally ended, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that her future would be forever linked with this man.

  

The dark warrior looked down into the eyes of the woman who was the other part of his soul. The woman who was linked to him now and forever.

  

His whispered, “My Queen,” was both a title and an intimate caress that fuelled Clarisse’s desire. He captured her lips once more in a devastating kiss, before picking her up in his arms, and carrying her into the tent and their future.

  **  
**

**The End**

**  
**


	12. Stuck- The Twelfth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarisse and Joseph become stuck and Clarisse makes a request of Joseph.

**Stuck**

 

 

“Don’t let it…,” Clarisse said as she watched the door begin to close behind Joseph. Joseph turned quickly, but was a second too late in preventing the door from closing.

  

“…close,” finished Clarisse. But it had and now they were stuck, she, for the second time, and he, for the first. Earlier, Joseph had received a text from Her Majesty saying she was stuck in one of the storage rooms near the vault. He had immediately come to rescue her. And now his rescue had turned into a need for rescuing.

  

Her Majesty retook her seat on the crate and looked at Joseph. “Please tell me you have your cell phone on you,” she said.

 

“I do,” he answered, unclipping it from his belt and showing it to Her Majesty.

  

“Good, because my battery is dead,” she said.

 

Joseph was tempted to tease her about forgetting to charge it but he didn’t. He was just happy she had carried it with her, because if she hadn’t, no one would have known where she was, and it would have taken hours to find her by searching. He flipped opened his cell, speed dialling the Hub. Joseph could hear no ringing and looked at the signal metre, noticing no bars were registering.

  

“Barely a signal,” he said.

  

“You can get at least one bar over by the wall,” said Clarisse, watching as Joseph walked over to the wall. One bar appeared on his phone display, and he knew a call would not go through, which would explain why Clarisse had texted him rather than calling. Flipping his phone, he slid out the keyboard and began composing the text. He hit send then returned his phone to its clip.

  

“How long before they receive the text?” asked Clarisse.

  

“At least an hour,” replied Joseph. “That is how long it took for me to receive yours,” he added, walking back over to her.

  

Clarisse sighed softly and closed her eyes. Another hour stuck inside a storage room, even with Joseph as company it was honestly not an appealing thought. Joseph sat down. “Your Majesty..” he began.

  

“Joseph, we are stuck in a storage room together. Alone. Do you think this is one of those times when formality can be tossed out the metaphorical window? You can call me by my first name, you know. It is something, I might add, I have urged you to do countless times,” she said.

  

“I’m sorry. Clarisse...” he began.

 

She smiled. He returned her smile. “I was going to ask if you were hungry. You have not eaten since lunch, and it is well past tea time- almost close to dinner,” asked Joseph.

  

“Starving,” answered Clarisse. “I didn’t have much of an appetite at lunch. Unfortunately, I am now paying for not eating properly,” she said.

  

“Well, then I have just the thing for you,” said Joseph, pulling a candy bar out of his jacket pocket.

 

“Is that chocolate, Joseph?”

  

“Yes. Dark chocolate to be exact,” he said, handing the bar over to Clarisse. He watched with a grin as Clarisse tore open the bar, broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth. She moaned closing her eyes in bliss as the dark confection melted on her tongue. Joseph shifted where he sat. Her moans and her expression of pure bliss went straight to his groin. Another moan had him closing his eyes and praying for control.

  

Clarisse finished her second piece of chocolate, opened her eyes and looked over at Joseph. She noticed his closed eyes, and the tightness around his eyes. Glancing down she also noticed his pants stretched tight across the front of his body, highlighting his reaction to her moans. Seeing his reaction, Clarisse decided now was the perfect time to voice the request she had been putting off for months, ever since their dance is San Francisco.

 

“Joseph?”

 

Joseph opened his eyes and shifted slightly on the box he was leaning on. “Yes, Clarisse?”

  

“May I kiss you?” she asked softly.

  

Joseph’s eyes widened at this request and he stammered, “Excuse…excuse me?”

 

“May I kiss you?” Clarisse asked once again. “Ever since San Francisco I have wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” Looking down at her hands then back up at Joseph, Clarisse began to explain. “I know we are friends, and while friends do kiss…I don’t want to kiss you as a friend…you are more than simply a friend and I wondered if…” Clarisse broke off when Joseph held up his hand in a silent request for her to stop speaking. Clarisse stopped, realizing she was rambling like her granddaughter did when Mia was nervous.

  

“Yes,” he said. His answer was simple and straightforward.

  

“Yes?” Clarisse asked.

  

“Yes,” reiterated Joseph. “You may kiss me.”

 

Clarisse smiled a smile that Joseph returned. Clarisse moved off the crate she had been sitting on, to stand in front of Joseph. Now that she had his agreement on the kiss, she wondered exactly how she should kiss him. She did not want to come on too strongly but she also did not want the kiss to be too gentle. She debated on the different ways to kiss him before mentally shrugging and stepping closer to him. She would simply kiss him as she had Rupert.

  

Clarisse placed her hands on Joseph’s chest and slid them up to come to rest on his shoulders. She spread her fingers out so they rested just over the edge of his shoulders, relishing the feel of his muscles under her fingertips. She moved one hand from his shoulder to his neck, and slowly caressed up his neck to his ear then across to his cheek. Her hand came to rest on his cheek. Her thumb moved sensually over his lower lip, and an answering tingle appeared on her lower lip.

 

Clarisse moved forward, her lips almost touching Joseph’s lips. She looked up into his eyes. The blue of his eyes were almost obscured by the black of his pupils. Clarisse was sure her eyes were just as dark. Breathing in, she tasted the air exhaled from Joseph and her eyes dropped to gaze at his goatee-framed lips. Letting her eyes slip closed, Clarisse settled her lips softly over Joseph’s, caressing them gently, learning their texture and their taste.

  

Her hand slid from his cheek to clasp the back of his head, her fingers teasing the soft hair at the nape of his neck. She moved her body so it was flush against Joseph’s and a soft sigh escaped her lips as she felt his hands settle on her body, one to her back, and one to her hip. She moved her lips over his, deepening the kiss, opening her mouth under his, offering him an intimate taste of her. She moaned when she felt Joseph pull her impossibly closer, and his mouth open over hers. Their tongues tasted and tangled, learning the taste of each other.

  

Clarisse discovered Joseph tasted of dark sensuality mixed with cool peppermint, spice and heat. A combination, which fuelled Clarisse’s desire and one, she could easily become addicted to. His lips were firm, with just a hint of softness and the hairs of his goatee caressed her chin and upper lip in a way that caused goosebumps to rise all over Clarisse’s body. Added to that, his clothed body was sinfully hot and the warmth from him caused Clarisse to slip into an almost trancelike state. She knew when they made love, because there was no way she was not taking this man to her bed, his heat would brand her, warming every inch of her body and soul.

  

Finally ending the kiss, Clarisse smiled at Joseph’s mewl of displeasure, and leaned back, looking up at Joseph. What she saw brought a smile of feminine satisfaction to her face. His face was flushed, his lips swollen and the his heavy lidded gaze hot causing Clarisse to shiver in delicious pleasure. She was sure she looked as well-kissed as Joseph. Her lips certainly felt swollen and her body felt as if it were melting into a puddle.

  

When Joseph pulled her back into his arms, and his lips closed over hers again Clarisse didn’t resist. Her last coherent thought, before surrendering to the sensuality and addictiveness of Joseph’s kisses, was she hoped it took longer than an hour for the text message to go through. Because, she did not think an hour would be a sufficient time to fully appreciate kissing Joseph.

  

**The End**

 

 

 

**  
**


	13. Satisfied- The Thirteenth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A walk and a ruin bring satisfaction.

**Satisfied**

 

  

Clarisse walked along occasionally trailing her hand over the front of Joseph’s pants. She loved to tease him, to make him so hard and needy that his only thought was to bury himself into her wet, willing body. She loved to feel him harden beneath her hand and hear his hiss of breath as she squeezed and fondled him. At first, she had limited her teasing to places where they had relative privacy. Under the table while they ate dinner. In her office during meetings, while they discussed various issues, or in the limousines, on the way to and from various state functions. Places that allowed him to regain a measure of control. Now she found she enjoyed the power she had over him and extended her teasing to anytime anywhere, regardless of the privacy.

 

 Today she teased him as they walked through the gardens. Every time they stopped, she would run her hand over him, squeeze his shaft and fondle his balls then stop her caresses. His eyes were dark with desire and she could feel his body tremble with need. She knew it was only a matter of time before he would grab her, rip her panties from her body and bury himself inside her, mindless of everything but his overwhelming need for her. His passion and desire would leave physical evidence on her body, evidence he would wash away, offering words of apology as he tended to her gently and lovingly.

  

They stopped once again, this time near the ruin, partial columns framing its entrance. Clarisse reached forward to squeeze Joseph’s hard shaft but his bruising hold on her wrist stopped her motion. She looked up at him, not in the least surprised to see his eyes black with desire and hear his breath coming in harsh pants. He pulled her into his arms, his mouth fastening on her neck, biting and tasting her skin as his hands travelled over her clothed body. His hand yanked up her skirt as he pushed her back against the ruin’s column. His mouth travelled down from her neck to her clothed breasts. Clarisse gasped as she felt him bite her nipple, rolling the sensitive tip between his teeth before releasing it and repeating his actions to the other side. Clarisse held his head to her breast as she arched against him, forcing more of her clothed breast into his mouth. She whined softly when she felt his fingernails scratch the skin of her upper thigh. She keened loudly when she felt him pull aside the wet silk of her panties and plunge two fingers into her damp core. His fingers moved rapidly in and out of her channel as his thumb pushed and prodded at her clit. His fingers were forcing her need higher and higher and she could feel her body tightening, the pressure building. She was gasping and pleading, reaching, clawing her way to that final instant when her body would explode in ecstasy.

  

Clarisse cried out in despair when she felt Joseph’s fingers leave her body. Not even the tearing of her panties registered in the haze of despair that overwhelmed her at the denial of her orgasm. Euphoria quickly replaced despair when she felt his hard erection enter her in one swift thrust. Her legs wrapped around his hips automatically, her back pressed tightly to the column as his hands reached under her bottom to hold her. Joseph’s thrusts were hard, fast, and deep. His only thought to come inside his woman, to bathe her insides with his essence while she quivered and shook around his hard shaft. Nothing else mattered as he thrust and she counter-thrust, their need overriding everything else.

  

Soon he felt his shaft expanding, becoming harder and he increased his thrusts until his orgasm overcame him and he shout of, “Clarisse” scared the birds resting in the trees near them, forcing them to take wing in panic.

  

His orgasm triggered hers and her shout of “Joseph” echoed over the squawking of the fleeing birds. They clung to each other, gasping, hearts hammering, sliding down the column to come to rest on the stone floor of the ruin. As they recovered, they exchanged soft caresses and murmured words of love.

  

Hours later, they returned to the Palace, exhausted, famished but extremely satisfied.

 

  **The End**


	14. Memories- The Fourteenth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When accusations are made against King Rupert, Dowager Queen Clarisse shows Genovia the true man behind the crown.

**Memories**

 

  

Queen Amelia tossed the paper down onto the desk in disgust, before looking over at her Grandmother. “Why are they doing this?” she asked, trying to understand why the press would attempt to smear the good name of her late Grandfather, King Rupert, _‘may he rest in peace’,_ she silently added.

 

 “Because, my dear, there are people in Genovia and around the world who would do anything to undermine the Renaldi rule and name,” explained her Grandmother, placing her teacup down on the table.

  

“But this…this,” Mia pointed to the various papers and magazines that littered her desk, “is disgusting. He is dead, has been for over eight years and now…now...” Mia threw her hands up in the air, dropping down onto the sofa next to her grandmother. “Now they are trying to defile his memory with this…this crap! They have called him a wife abuser, a drunk, a... a philanderer…my god the only thing they haven’t called him was a rapist,” Mia spat in disgust.

  

Clarisse reached over, covered Mia’s hand with hers and squeezed it gently. “My dear, it will be fine,” said Clarisse.

  

Mia looked at her grandmother, noticed how calm she was and asked, “How can you be so calm, Grandma. They are insulting your first husband, the father of your children, my grandfather and you are sitting there serene and calm. How…why? Don’t you care?”

  

Clarisse looked directly into Amelia’s eyes. Mia saw the glint of steel in her grandmother’s eyes and realized while her grandmother may appear outwardly calm she was livid!

  

“I am calm because I have proof, undeniable proof that every single accusation made about Rupert is completely and utterly false. By the time I am through, there will be no doubt as to the character of your Grandfather and my first husband Rupert.”

  

Just as Clarisse finished speaking Joseph walked in, looked at Clarisse and said, “They are in the media room being prepared. Sebastian has called a session of Parliament and Charlotte is finishing up your speech.”

  

“Then I suppose we should prepare ourselves,” said Clarisse. “Come, my dear,” she said to Mia, standing and waiting for Mia to do the same.

  

“Grandma, what is going on?” asked Mia.

 

 “I’ll explain as we change, we have…,” Clarisse looked at Joseph.

  

“Thirty minutes,” he informed his wife.

 

Clarisse slipped her arm through her granddaughters, Dowager Queen and Queen walked toward their suites, heads together as Clarisse explained everything to her granddaughter. Queen Amelia’s laughter could be heard, along with the soft chuckles from the Dowager Queen.

  

Protocol demanded that the reigning Queen enter first but Amelia waved aside that protocol, stating this session of Parliament was not about protocol it was about family and as head of the Renaldi portion of the Ramirez Renaldi family, the Dowager Queen would enter first, followed by herself, and her grandfather Joseph.

  

Taking their seats, she on the right of her grandmother and Joseph on the left, they waited for the speech and proof that would forever prove the character of her grandfather King Rupert. Clarisse began her speech and spoke of her grandfather in loving terms, reminding everyone present of King Rupert’s accomplishments, of his love for his country and his tireless efforts on behalf of Genovia. She reminded everyone of the man behind the crown and finally coming to the end of her short speech she said, “And while I know I can stand up here and speak for hours about my husband and my King there will be those watching this who would still refuse to believe that King Rupert…” Clarisse waited for the normal response to his name to end before she continued. “…was a loving husband, father and man. Instead, they would prefer to believe the lies and innuendos printed about the man. The old saying, ‘seeing is believing,’ is applicable in this instance so I shall let you see what no one but myself, a good friend and our sons have ever seen.”

  

The lights in Parliament were lowered and a large LCD television was lowered, the screen blank before it was filled with the smiling face of King Rupert, looking healthy.

  

“Are we ready?” he asked someone out of sight. “Good, then let’s get this thing started,” he said. “ _Bonjour ma femme chérie, mon amour_ ,” Rupert said, the love he felt easily seen by everyone watching.

  

Clarisse’s whispered, “ _Bonjour mari, mon amour,”_ was picked up by the microphone she was wearing on her lapel. She squeezed Joseph’s hand.

 

“ _Hola Joseph, mi amigo, mi hermano,”_ Rupert said.

  

Joseph’s, “ _Hola mi rey, mi hermano_ ,” was also picked up by Clarisse’s microphone. Many in Parliament were surprised at King Rupert’s greeting.

  

“Hello boys,” Rupert greeted. “Stop scowling Philippe, and stop smirking at your brother Pierre, you may be grown but you will always be my boys. So deal with it as the saying goes,” Rupert said, his teasing bringing chuckles from those watching. “Now you are probably wondering exactly what I am doing and why. Well, the what is, I am making a movie for all of you to enjoy. That includes you Joseph and little Amelia, along with any other grandchildren my sons see fit to give me. Yes, Pierre that was directed at you. Simply because you are a member of the clergy, you are a Lutheran minister not a Catholic priest, does not mean you cannot father a handful of babies for your mother and me to enjoy. Or in this case for your Mama and Joseph to enjoy.”

  

“Now the why of this is twofold. When I am gone, there will be rumours and stories about me. Many will be based on the truth. I do not deny that before I married your mother I was a playboy. I enjoyed the life of a Crown Prince, and all the rewards that came with it. I can guarantee that the press will dredge up every single instance of that time of my life and plaster it across papers. If I could prevent that I would, but I cannot so I decided to create something that would counter all the trash the press will print. The other why is that I want each of you to remember our lives together. I want you to remember everything. Even the bad times, because even when we argued we were family first. So without further ado I give you us.”

 

King Rupert faded out to be replaced by the image of a very young Clarisse and a younger Rupert.

  

“I don’t like you!” Clarisse said.

  

“I’m not exactly thrilled with you either,” Rupert argued back. “Why my parents think you will make me a good wife is beyond me. I like brunettes, and you are blonde. I like women who are tall and you are not. I like women who are trim. You are too…,” Rupert struggled to find the right word. “…curvy. And your eyes…their blue. I like green eyes. You don’t fit what I want in a wife at all,” he said.

 

Clarisse turned to glare at Rupert. “Well, if we are listing physical preferences then allow me to assure you you don’t fit my ideal man either. You are too tall. I don’t like men overly tall. You are too muscular. I prefer men to be toned, without bulging muscles. I don’t like men with grey in their hair. Grey hair is for old men. And your eyes are hazel. I like eyes with a single colour, not ones that can’t decide on their colour,” Clarisse said.

  

“Good, then it is decided,” said Rupert. “We aren’t right for each other. I’ll inform my father that we don’t suit and you can go back to your life and I can go back to mine.”

  

“Good,” replied Clarisse.

  

The scene changed to a garden party and Rupert’s voice could be heard. “I still couldn’t believe I listed those reasons as to why you weren’t the perfect woman for me. But the only thing I can say in my defence is that my father sprung you on me with no warning and you quite literally knocked the breath out of me. You were the complete opposite of what I thought I found attractive. It didn’t help that when I spoke to you I felt as nervous as a teenager did. Luckily, calmer heads prevailed and our engagement continued.”

  

The scene shifted again, this time to the garden and a group of men speaking.

 

 “So have you kissed her yet?” a man who looked remarkably like Lord Nicholas Devereaux asked.

 

 “No,” answered Rupert.

  

“She probably doesn’t know how to kiss,” another voice said.

 

 “She looks too icy, too cold to know how to kiss,” added another man.

  

The men laughed and continued to talk about Lady Clarisse and the upcoming wedding. As they spoke, they failed to realize the lady they were discussing was on the other side of the hedges. She could hear every single word they said about her. She cared little about the men’s opinions. One opinion however did bother her. Deciding the best way to deal with the one opinion was to prove beyond any doubt she possessed the skills the men were maligning. She made her way over to the men. The men immediately stopped speaking when they saw her approach. She greeted each man warmly before stopping near Rupert.

  

“I just wanted to say goodbye. I have a few appointments,” she said. She knew the men were listening to their conversation.

  

“I will escort you to your car,” said Rupert.

  

“That won’t be necessary,” said Clarisse. “I don’t want to take you away from your guests,” she said, indicating the men.

  

“If you’re sure,” said Rupert.

  

“Yes, quite sure. But there is one thing you can do for me,” said Clarisse, resting her hands on Rupert’s chest.

  

“That is?”

  

“A kiss,” said Clarisse. Rupert was surprised at Clarisse’s request. Seeing Rupert’s hesitation, Clarisse pulled Rupert’s head down to hers and kissed him slowly, thoroughly exploring his mouth before ending the kiss. She wiped a smudge of lipstick off Rupert’s lower lip with her thumb, stepped out of his arms, said goodbye and walked away.

  

Rupert watched her walk away before the scene faded again. For the next ninety minutes, Parliament and the Genovian public witnessed various glimpses into the life of the Royal Family- from the Royal Wedding, to the birth of the Princes to private moments between King Rupert and Queen Clarisse. As the show continued, Clarisse relived every moment on the screen. She covered her face in embarrassment a few times; shy at the public seeing the intimacy between her and Rupert.

  

“Oh no...,” she whispered when the library came into view. It was dark, only the faint outline of the bookshelves visible. Mia was ready to ask what was the matter when she heard her grandmother’s voice.

 

 “Please Rupert…,” Clarisse begged, the passion in her voice unmistakable.

 

 “Shh….darling. You are going to have to be quiet. Can you do that? Can you keep from making those sexy little noises you do…we don’t want those at the ball to hear us,” Rupert said his voice deep and husky as his hands pulled more moans from his wife.

  

“Sod the ball,” gasped Clarisse, whining softly.

 

 “Shh... _mon amour_ ,” said Rupert. Soon, only the sounds of clothing rustling could be heard. The scene shifted to the hallway, where Joseph stood guarding the library doors. The audience watched as Philippe, with Pierre following walked over to speak to Joseph.

  

“Joseph, have you seen Mama and Papa?” Philippe asked.

  

“Yes,” answered Joseph.

  

“Where?” asked Pierre. Their parents had been missing for about ten minutes and both men were wondering where they were. Their father’s health was declining and so they were understandably worried. Something in Joseph’s expression must have clued Pierre in. He looked at the library door then back at Joseph then the library door again.

  

“They’re inside aren’t they?” asked Pierre.

 

 “Yes,” answered Joseph.

 

 Pierre turned to Philippe. “They’re inside,” said Pierre, thumbing toward the door.

  

“The library? What are they doing in the library?” asked Philippe. Pierre gave Philippe a look and understanding dawned.

  

“Not again?” Philippe said. Pierre nodded yes. “Don’t they have a room?” huffed Philippe, not wanting to think about what his parents were doing in the library.

  

“Well, if you think about it, the whole of the Palace is theirs so…,” began Pierre.

 

“Shut up, brother,” complained Philippe, before a grin spread across his face and he tossed an arm around Pierre. “What say you we go to our hosting thing,” he began. “Because I don’t want to be here when they come out. There are things sons should not know about their parents,” he finished. Pierre laughed, and tossed an arm around Philippe’s shoulders agreeing. The two men turned to walk back to the ballroom; Pierre stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Joseph?” he said.

  

“Yes?”

  

“Please make sure they are presentable before they return. We can’t have them shocking Parliament,” he said.

  

Joseph rolled his eyes at the request as the two men laughed, and re-entered the ballroom.

  

A few more scenes played before Rupert reappeared on the screen.

 

 “Quite fond memories, weren’t they my dear? Now that we have relived them, I have only a few things left to say.  Pierre, I have loved you since before you were born and I will love you until the end of time. You are my son, and while I know you would have made a great king and I would have been proud of you, I am prouder of you for following the path of your heart. However, this does not mean I do not want a few grandchildren from you,” he teased. “I love you.”

  

“Philippe. I love you. You are like me is so many ways and my heart breaks knowing that you will never love another woman as you did Helen. But I also know that the choices you made were best for your family. I had hoped to see Amelia just once more before I died but I know it will not happen. I know you will make a great king and when your daughter finally arrives in Genovia and learns of her heritage, I know she will make a great Queen. Remember, I love you, until the end of time and then some,” he said.

 

 Rupert looked intently the camera and began, “Joseph, you are my friend and my brother. I suppose many would wonder why a man with your background and training would come to work for a small country like Genovia. Most would think it was for the prestige of working for the Royal Family or for the money that the position offered but I know the true reason you came to work here. You came because I asked you to. Few men would leave everything, their home, their connections, their family’s power and move halfway across the world to become Head of Security. But you did and I am indebted to you for doing so. If it had not been for you, I would have lost my son to an attacker and the most important woman in the world to an assassin’s bullet. I cannot ever repay you for your loyalty. The only thing I can do is thank you. _T_ _e amo, mi amigo y hermano,”_ he finished.

 

Looking directly at the camera, Rupert let his kingly mask slip and became simply a man, “Clarisse, _mon amour_ , what can I say to you? Everything I want to say sounds trite and overused. You are my soul, the other half of me and I will love you until the end of time. And while I will love you forever, I do not want or expect you to remain unmarried for the rest of your life. You have too much love in you to waste on a memory. If you fall in love with a certain man, a man who you trust above all others, know this, you have not only my blessing but also my congratulations,” he said, raising his fingers to his lips and sending a kiss to the woman he loved for over forty years.

  

“As for any of my grandchildren who may be watching this, I hope this gives you an idea of the man who was your grandfather. I bid you all adieu, until we meet again. _Au revoir_.”

  

Silence greeted the end of the broadcast and as the lights came on, a slow clap began in Parliament. Queen Amelia, Dowager Queen Clarisse and Sir Joseph looked around at the members of Parliament, the media and the public who were present as the audience wiped their eyes, stood and cheered.

  

Clarisse squeezed Mia and Joseph’s hands and knew there would be no more rumours printed about King Rupert.

 

  

**The End**

 

 


	15. Phantom- The Fifteenth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phantom guards the Queen of Genovia.

**Phantom**

 

 

José Joseph Hector Calvera Ramirez watched as she walked through the sleeping Palace. He had been watching her since the first day she had come to live at the Palace as a young bride. He watched as she loved and laughed with her husband. Often times, having to fight the overwhelming feelings of jealousy he experienced as she enjoyed the attentions of her husband. He watched, as twice, she grew heavy with child, giving birth to two fine sons and raising them to become fine men. There were times he wished she carried his children and it was his sons she sang to at night.

 

He watched as she lost first her husband to that final night. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her but his lack of a physical form prevented him from doing so. The only thing he could offer her was comfort in that space between waking and dreaming. Often, it was nothing more than a soft touch to her hand and a feeling she was not alone.

 

When she lost her youngest son that fateful night, he railed against the heavens themselves. The pain he felt for her manifested itself in the form of a storm. The driving rain and violent winds lashed the Palace and the surrounding countryside. When she fell into a depression that even the presence of her oldest son could not pull her out of, he came to her and forced his way into her dreams. He demanded she live, yelled and railed at her until she finally reacted to him and forced him from her dreams. She slowly recovered but a part of her was missing, a part of her soul gone, and it was not until she met her granddaughter did that part of her soul return, bright and beautiful.

 

He watched as she taught her granddaughter all she needed to know to be Queen. He watched as the young woman learned all she could from her grandmother. But it was not just how to run a country the girl learned; she also learned how to be a true lady from a woman who was by far the finest lady he had ever known. He watched her bear witness to her granddaughter marrying, being crowned Queen and bring a new prince into the world.

  

Now he watched her wander through the Palace. He wished for the thousandth time he could become solid, take her in his arms and show her the feelings he held for her, but he was unable to do so. He was cursed to wander these halls, invisible and incorporeal, forever. It was his penance for his failure to his duty in his life. She wandered into the Gallery. She often came to the Gallery to think and look at the paintings that hung there.

  

His own painting hung there, against the back wall and was often ignored by those who visited the Gallery. He was not a Renaldi. Few knew who he really was or why he hung in the family gallery, his history hidden in time. She walked towards the back of the Gallery and trailed her hand over the frames of the Renaldi ancestors. When she came to his painting, she stared at it before tracing a hand over the frame.

  

A tingle shot through his incorporeal body.

  

Her hand moved from the frame to the actual painting and she trailed a finger over his painted hand.

  

Excruciating pain lanced through his body. If he didn’t know he was already dead, he would swear someone was slowing eviscerating him. He wanted to yell and scream at her to stop touching his painting but he could not form any words.

 

She moved from his hand to up his arm then across to his other hand.

  

He silently screamed. His body was on fire, his skin burned. He screamed, falling to his knees in agony, pain so intense that he lost complete hold on what little consciousness he maintained from life. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was a bright silvery light, and then he knew no more.

  
 

Consciousness came slowly back to him. His head pounded and his body felt heavy. He slowly opened his eyes only to find himself staring up at a sea of faces he vaguely recognized. Looking around the faces, he came to rest on the one face as familiar to him as his own.

  

“How?” he asked, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

  

He watched as she knelt down next to him, ghosted a hand over his cheek and said, “I will explain everything later,” before placing a soft kiss to his whiskered cheek.

 

 

**The End**

 


	16. Recovery- The Sixteenth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to Phantom- The Fifteenth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Recovery**

 

 

Joseph woke.

 

“How do you feel?” a soft voice asked from his side.

  

Joseph looked over at where the voice came from and smiled when he saw Clarisse sitting next to the bed, a book perched on her lap.

  

“Tired and sore,” he said. His voice was raspy.

  

“I would imagine so. How much do you remember?” she asked.

  

Joseph thought for a moment. “Not much. Everything is a bit fuzzy. How did I end up here?”

  

Clarisse stood, placed the book down on the chair and walked over to the bed. She gently sat on the edge of the bed and reached up to ghost a hand over Joseph’s skin. “You are much cooler,” she said. “And as to the how you ended up here, Shades and Lionel carried you here, while I summoned the doctor. He examined and treated you. You were dehydrated, hallucinating, and running a fever of 104. He administered an IV, antibiotics, pain relievers and saline. We thought we were going to have to transport you to the hospital but your fever finally broke a few hours ago. Which was an extremely good thing, and you have been sleeping peacefully since,” explained Clarisse.

  

Joseph listened quietly as Clarisse explained what had happened to him. “You said I was hallucinating?” he asked.

  

“Yes.”

  

“I suppose the hallucinations would explain how I felt,” murmured Joseph.

  

Clarisse took his hand in hers. “What do you mean, how you felt? What do you remember?”

  

“I remember I didn’t feel real. I felt invisible, ghostlike. I can remember watching you. Watching you your whole life. From your marriage to Rupert to Mia’s arrival at the Palace, her marriage and everything in between. I watched it all but couldn’t touch you or speak to you,” said Joseph, his expression haunted. “The last thing I remember was you tracing your hand along the Dark Guard’s painting and the intense pain it brought me.”

  

Clarisse squeezed Joseph’s hand. She did not comment on some of the details. When he fully recovered they would discuss his memories, and some of the details. For now, it didn’t matter.

  

“That is where we found you, in the Gallery. You were on the lying on floor, curled up below the painting of the Dark Guard. Mia discovered you. You gave her quite a fright,” said Clarisse.

  

Clarisse reached up to stroke Joseph’s cheek. “You gave me quite a fright,” she whispered, kissing Joseph softly. Joseph returned her kiss. Pulling back Clarisse stroked Joseph’s cheek again; she could see he was fighting sleep. “Go back to sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake,” Clarisse urged.

  

Joseph mumbled his agreement and slipped back into sleep. Clarisse pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before moving off the bed. She sat back down in her chair, and opened her book to continue to read. A soft knock interrupted her. Clarisse turned to see whom it was, waving Mia into the room. The young woman tiptoed in and perched on the edge of her grandmother’s chair.

  

“How is he?” she whispered.

  

“Much better,” answered her grandmother. “The hallucinations confused him, but the doctor said it is to be expected.” Clarisse looked up at her granddaughter and grinned.

 

“What?” Mia asked.

  

“You are married,” she said.

  

“Shut up!” replied Mia. “To whom?” she asked.

  

“I don’t know. But when your grandfather wakes back up you can ask him,” teased her grandmother.

  

“I hope its William. Or maybe it’s that cute nephew of Viscount Mabrey’s. Or do you think it could be Shades?” Mia said hopefully. Clarisse smiled at her seventeen-year-old granddaughter. Mia’s crush on Shades, her grandfather’s second in command was a well-known secret.

  

“May I wait with you?” Mia asked her grandmother.

  

“If you wish,” answered Clarisse.

  

Mia retrieved another chair from the other side of the bedroom and placed it next to her grandmother. “What are you reading?” she asked.

 

Her grandmother held up a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. “Again?” Mia teased. Clarisse noticed a well-worn paperback tucked into the pocket of Mia’s cardigan. She pulled it out, read the cover.

  

“Again?” she mimicked Mia.

  

“Do not mock the Colonel,” replied Mia, wagging her finger at her grandmother. The two women laughed. Mia took back her copy of _Sense and Sensibility_ from her grandmother. She sat down and soon the two women were engrossed in their reading, Joseph’s easy breathing weaving a net of safety over them.

 

 

**The End**

 

 

 


	17. Titled- The Seventeenth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third part to Phantom and Recovery. This one answers some questions but not all. It is also the last in this universe so any new questions will have to be answered by your own imagination.

**Titled**

 

  

Joseph stared at the painting of the Dark Guard. Since his illness, he had found himself often seeking out the portrait, looking at it. He had also started to research everything he could about the Dark Guard. He had discovered his name was Hector, and he was as far as Joseph could determine the Captain of the Guards for Chevelair II, the first of the Renaldi line. He also discovered his portrait was painted at the behest of Chevelair’s widow, ten years after Chevelair died and one year before Chevelair’s oldest son, Armand was crowned king.

  

As for the curse that was supposed to be on the painting the only thing Joseph was able to discover was an old poem. He had read the poem so often that he could now recite it from memory. The one line that always stood out to him was ‘… _dark is he but to her he is the sun/ to deny them time is to/ deny the very heavens their multitude…_ ’ It was almost as if the poem was a warning not to deny her his presence. But who was she? He didn’t know. Nothing in the poem gave him a clue to the mysterious woman’s identity and none of his research unearthed a wife or even a mistress for Hector, the Dark Guard. The man and his story were just as mysterious now as it was prior to Joseph’s research.

  

“There you are?” a voice said from across the Gallery. Joseph turned to watch his granddaughter walk over to him.

  

“ _Hola, niña_ ,” greeted Joseph, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Mia.

  

“Hello _Yayo_ ,” said Mia. “Still trying to figure out our Dark Guard?” she asked.

  

“Hmm mmm, although I am not sure how successful I am,” said Joseph. “For every one question I manage to answer another two pop up. The man was, is, a true mystery.”

 

 Mia looked up at the painting then back at her grandfather. “You still feel connected to him?” she asked.

  

“Yes,” replied Joseph. “I don’t know how to explain it but I can almost feel him. Almost understand him.” Joseph stared at the painting. “It is almost as if he wants me to know something but can’t find a way to tell me,” he said.

 

“Well, perhaps he wants you to tell your granddaughter who she is going to marry,” teased Mia.

  

Joseph looked over at Mia. “Um…no. I am positive that is not it,” replied Joseph, trying to keep the smile off his face at Mia’s look of disappointment.

 

“Come on _Yayo_ , tell me,” pleaded Mia. “You said you saw my wedding. You saw who I married. You even saw my son. Don’t you think I have the right to know who my husband is going to be?”

  

“Princess, I can’t tell you. Not that I don’t want to but just that I can’t,” said Joseph. “I promised your Grandmother I wouldn’t mention who it was but I can tell you…,” he said, leaning closer to Mia.

  

“Yes?” she said, leaning closer to her grandfather. He was finally going to tell her something about her future husband. She was almost bouncing in place.

 

 Joseph looked first left, the right, making sure they were alone. He then bent toward Mia’s ear, waited for a moment then whispered, “He is a man.” He dodged the slap to his arm.

 

 “Ah ah ah…no hitting your elders,” he teased, laughing when Mia crossed her arms and glared at him. She was getting rather good at the glares. They were almost as potent as her grandmother’s were.

  

“Just for that I shouldn’t tell you why Grandma sent me to find you,” Mia said.

  

“And why did she send you to find me?” Joseph asked, tucking Mia’s arm into his. He led the way out of the Gallery.

  

“She sent me to find you so you would be and I quote, _dressed and ready for the ceremony_ , unquote,” said Mia.

  

Joseph grumbled. Mia added, “And she said, no amount of grumbling, muttering or cursing is going to change the fact that YOU are being titled whether you want to be or not.”

  

Joseph sighed. “I don’t need a peerage. I do not need to be anything other than the husband of Queen Clarisse Renaldi Ramirez. Why can’t Parliament understand that?” asked Joseph.

 

Mia stopped walking and turned to her grandfather. “ _Yayo_ , I know that, Grandma knows that, even most of the members of Parliament know you don’t want a title. However, while everyone in Genovia understands just how important you are, those outside of Genovia see you differently,” said Mia

  

“All they see is…forgive me for this…a commoner who married the reigning Queen. To them you are an upstart. They don’t know you or your history. In order for them to understand just how important you are to Grandma, to me, to Genovia, Parliament is demanding you be conferred the title of Duke of Andua. And short of divorcing Grandma and leaving Genovia…which if you do I will hunt you down, haul you back home and hang you by your toes in the courtyard…there is nothing you can do but accept the title,” finished Mia.

  

“I still don’t have to like it,” said Joseph. “Your Grandmother and I married two years ago. Family, friends and Parliament witnessed the ceremony and the Archbishop officiated. For me that was enough.”

  

“ _Yayo_ , I understand, really I do. But this is for Genovia and its people. And as Grandma often tells me _‘duty to Genovia oft times requires sacrifices from those who serve her.’_ This is your sacrifice,” said Mia.

  

Joseph looked at his granddaughter. It still amazed him how far she had come in the two short years since finding out about her heritage. He tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “You will make a perfect Queen,” before placing a soft kiss to Mia’s forehead.

  

Mia hugged her grandfather, and slipped her arm through his.

  

“Come on,” she said, leading the way toward the stairs. “We don’t want to keep Grandma waiting any longer than necessary.”

 

 “True,” replied Joseph, smiling at his granddaughter. “Otherwise she might hang us both from our toes in the courtyard.”

 

 Later that evening after the ceremony and the ball, the newly titled Duke of Andua, Joseph Hector Calvera Ramirez returned to the Gallery, along with his wife.

 

They stood together in front of the painting of The Dark Guard admiring it, before the newly title Duke took his Queen’s hand in his and to music only they could hear, they danced for the painting and the man it represented.

 

 

**The End**

 

 


	18. Lover Man- The Eighteenth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lover man, oh where can you be?

**Lover Man**

**  
**

Her Majesty, Queen Clarisse Mignonette Gerard Renaldi leaned against the balcony railing of her suite in the City of Lovers and sighed softly.

 

Below her thousands of lovers were taking advantage of the warm evening and a full moon to stroll along hand in hand, sharing soft touches and kisses with each other, while she was stuck here alone in what amounted to a gilded cage. She no longer had a lover. She no longer had the soft kisses, the gentle touches, and the whispered endearments of a lover. She missed the intimacy, the feel of a lover’s hands on her body, and the feel of their lips. She missed having a lover, a partner, someone to share her day with, to relax with; she missed having someone.

 

Now she had nothing but duty- cold, unfeeling duty which occupied her everyday and often every night. Duty was no substitute for a warm, caring lover. Oh, how she missed strong arms holding her. Strong hands caressing her body, making her forget everything but the feel of those hands. Oh, how she missed the warmth of another, tucked tightly against her body as she fell asleep. Straightening, Clarisse pulled her wrapper tight against her body, sighing softly. She stared up at the full moon, lost in thought and half-realized desires.

 

The soft clearing of a throat behind her had her turning around, her wrapper swirling around her body, before coming to rest against her, moulding itself to her body.

 

“Your Majesty, will there be anything else?” Olivia asked.

 

“No, nothing more, Olivia,” answered Clarisse. “Go and get some rest,” she added.

 

Curtseying, Olivia replied, “Good night Your Majesty,” before exiting. Clarisse watched as Olivia turned off the lights in the sitting room, and closed the door to her suite before turning back around and staring once more up at the moon.

 

After awhile Clarisse re-entered her suite, closing her balcony door and flipping the lock. She pulled the curtains closed, before hitting the light switch and plunging the room into partial darkness. Even with the curtains closed, the moon was bright enough to offer muted light and the light near the bed offered enough light for her to see easily. Removing her wrapper, she laid it across the end of the bed before turning off the small lamp next to the bed. Slipping in between the cool sheets, Clarisse turned on her side, tucked a hand under her pillow and closed her eyes. She sighed softly. It would be so nice to fall asleep in another’s arms. Unfortunately, that just was not going to happen. Turning onto her back, she tucked her hand back under her pillow, and with a soft exhale, she slipped into sleep.

 

Joseph rose from the chair he occupied in the sitting room. Normally he would remain in the sitting room, guarding Her Majesty from this room as she slept. However, tonight after watching her stare up at the moon, deep in thought he did not resist the temptation to enter her bedroom. Moving quietly, he entered her room.

 

First, he checked the balcony door, smiling softly at finding it already locked; he then moved towards the bed. The muted light from the moon allowed him to see her easily. She lay on her back, her hand tucked under her pillow, the covers pulled up only to her waist. Her negligee bared her shoulders and upper chest, offering Joseph an unparalleled view of her freckles. He often wondered if they tasted of the caramel they resembled. Looking down at her, he watched her breathe steadily and he unconsciously altered his breathing to match hers.

 

Normally, he would leave once he checked on her, making sure she was sleeping peacefully but tonight, tonight was different. Instead of turning to leave, Joseph found himself sitting down gently on the edge of her bed. He noticed her breathing never changed. A thought flashed through his head and before he could process its meaning, his body was following the thought’s command. Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss to her forehead, and then moved back. Another thought flashed through his head and his body followed its command before he could react. Joseph leant forward again and placed a soft kiss to Clarisse’s lips, moving gently over them. Suddenly Joseph realized what he was doing and tried to move away. A hand to the back of his head halted his movement. He looked down into the sleepy gaze of his Queen, before his eyes slid closed at the sensation of her kiss.

 

Clarisse’s kiss was as gentle as his but where he stopped; Clarisse continued kissing him, deepening the kiss. Joseph surrendered completely to the kiss. One kiss followed another and by the time the kisses ended, Joseph lay on the bed, his shoes off, his shirt unbuttoned. Clarisse’s head and one hand lay on his chest, and her breathing was once again steady as she slept. With his arms around his queen, Joseph closed his eyes. His last thought before he slipped into sleep was they would have to talk but for now, it could wait.

 

 

**The End**

 


	19. Hot…Wet- The Nineteenth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing more than hot, wet sex.

**Hot…Wet**

 

  

There was something to be said for hot, wet sex. Nothing could substitute the feel of a man as he thrust into the tight confines of a woman’s sex. The heat and the scent of a man and the pleasure he brought was an addictive quality that most heterosexual women craved and pursued with single mindedness. She was no different.

  

Clarisse did not have to do much to experience this pleasure. Nothing more than a sultry look, a passionate kiss and a few light touches were enough to provide what she craved and she craved him all the time. He was like a drug and she an addict. He now occupied her thoughts almost every hour of the day. Fantasies of them would invade her mind, and her body would react to the images she created, leaving her wet and wanting. Eventually the need would become so intense, she would seek him out, and with little more than a look find herself receiving his undivided pleasurable attentions.

  

Her cries would fill his ears and she would urge him on until her body would tense and she would explode in shivering ecstasy. More often than not, her body would demand repeated pleasure and by the time they parted her legs would be trembling, her sex swollen and tender and she would sport a few new love bites in places easily concealed by clothing. However, none of that mattered, because there was something to be said for hot, wet sex, especially when that hot, wet sex was with her husband Rupert.

 

 

**The End**

 

 


	20. Curves- The Twentieth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Real men appreciate curves.

**Curves**

  

 

“Is there something wrong Rupert?” asked Clarisse as she walked toward her betrothed. She could see his eyes darken as he watched her hips sway as she moved. She hid her smile as she relished the obvious appreciation in Rupert’s gaze.

 

Was it just a year ago, that she lamented to her mother about her curvy figure? Whining about how she would never have the slim, stylish figure that was fashionable now. How she was stuck with hips too wide, breasts too large, legs too defined and a derriere that was too generous.

  

Her mother had laughed at her whining and simply said that most men found curves more enticing than straight lines. Clarisse had scoffed at first but after her betrothal to Rupert, she discovered her mother might have been correct.

 

Men…real men seemed to appreciate curves.

  

“Wrong my dear?” he answered. “No there is nothing wrong. Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” he asked, taking her arm and slipping it into his.

 

“I don’t think you have,” Clarisse teased, as she relished the heat emanating from her betrothed. They walked toward the waiting limousine; Clarisse wondered how Rupert would react when he saw her dress.

  

It was by far the most sensual dress she had worn to date. Modest in its design and colour, it did fit her body like a glove accentuating her figure. She hoped Rupert liked it. If he did not, well, she could do little about it now.

  

Accepting Rupert’s assistance in entering the limo, Clarisse adjusted her coat as she waited for Rupert to enter on the other side. Once inside she heard the tap to the roof signalling their departure and she relaxed back against the cushions. She felt rather than saw Rupert move closer to her, and was not surprised when he slipped his arm around her shoulders. She looked at him, smiling softly.

  

“Is there something you wanted?” she teased.

  

“Yes,” Rupert answered softly.

  

“And what could it be that you want?” she asked, her gaze questioning.

  

“A kiss,” he answered, pulling Clarisse closer.

  

‘Oh, is that all,” answered Clarisse, the teasing lilt in her voice sending shivers down Rupert’s spine. Clarisse leaned toward Rupert, her lips just inches from his before she moved and placed a kiss to the end of his nose.

  

“A kiss,” she murmured, before moving back just a bit. She did not smile at the look of disappointment on his face.

  

“Is there something wrong?” she said.

  

“Yes,” replied Rupert. “You missed.”

  

“I did?” she asked.

 

“Yes. You were supposed to kiss me a bit lower,” said Rupert.

  

“Ahh…I see,” Clarisse said, moving forward and placing a kiss to his chin. “Better?” she asked.

  

“Close,” answered Rupert, pulling Clarisse closer to him. “Perhaps I should show you exactly where I want you to kiss me,” said Rupert, closing the distance between their lips.

  

“Perhaps you should,” murmured Clarisse before Rupert covered her mouth with his and kissed her slowly. Clarisse sighed into the kiss, parting her lips at Rupert’s urging and losing herself in their deepening kiss. When they finally broke apart, Clarisse exhaled shakily. Rupert exhaled just as shakily. It was getting harder and harder not to succumb to the temptation of seducing Clarisse.

  

Whenever they were together, all Rupert could think about was kissing and touching her. Often times he found himself fantasizing about her. He would wonder how she looked when she first woke in the morning. Was her hair messy; were her eyes heavy-lidded? Did she stretch like a cat before she climbed out of bed? He wondered what she wore to bed. Did she sleep nude as he did, or did she wear a sexy little nightgown or pyjamas that were more modest?

  

If someone had told him months ago that, he would be lusting after his betrothed, a woman whom he had not known or met prior to his parents arranging his marriage he would have laughed in their face. For a man who was purported to be an international playboy it was a bit strange to find himself so often in a state of semi-arousal when around Clarisse. It was even stranger and more disconcerting to discover he missed the semi-aroused feeling when he was not around her. Knowing if he did not put some space between them, he would end up sporting an unmistakable erection, he moved to sit opposite Clarisse.

  

“Rupert?” questioned Clarisse, surprised at Rupert’s actions.

  

“Trust me, this is for the best,” said Rupert, the huskiness of his voice not lost on Clarisse. Clarisse tilted her head to the side, allowing her gaze to drift over Rupert. What she saw brought an inward smile of feminine satisfaction to her and cemented the belief it was time for her to take control of her seduction.

  

Clarisse straightened her coat, smoothing the folds of it. If everything went well tonight, she would be waking up in Rupert’s arms tomorrow, satiated and satisfied.

  

Their arrival at the ballet occurred with the usual fanfare. Posing for pictures she and Rupert finally made their way inside. Quickly removing his coat, Rupert handed it to a waiting attendant before assisting Clarisse with the removal of her coat. Once free of her coat she waited for Rupert’s reaction. She was not disappointed when she heard his softly murmured “Merde!” Looking up into his face she watched his expression range from hunger to lust to pride and back again to hunger.

  

Moving closer to Clarisse, Rupert softly whispered, “Are you trying to kill me?”

  

“Don’t you like it?” Clarisse asked innocently, moving her hands over her hips in what many would view as a simple movement to smooth the dress, but which caused Rupert’s eyes to darken even more, his gaze never leaving her trailing hands and his breath escaped in a hiss.

  

“You are trying to kill me,” hissed Rupert. Clarisse stifled a grin at Rupert’s words as he slipped her arm into his and escorted her to the Royal Box. It took all of Rupert’s control not to lean back to watch Clarisse’s hips sway as she walked.

  

Sitting in the Royal Box, Rupert tried to watch the ballet but the woman next to him was far more enticing than the performance on the stage. She easily managed the various conversations that were going on around them when they arrived and took their seats. The first time she pressed herself up against his body during intermission, Rupert disregarded it as an accident. After all, there was little room in the Royal Box thanks to all their visitors. However, when she moved into his personal space, her lush bottom pressing against the front of his thighs for the third time he soon realized she was doing so on purpose. Each time she remained pressed against him for a longer period. The last time she pressed herself against him, she turned in his arms to issue an apology as their visitors excused themselves from the Royal Box, leaving them alone and Rupert had no qualms pulling her into the darkened corner of the Royal Box and kissing her senseless.

  

He would have continued to kiss her if Clarisse had not whispered, “Later,” before pressing her body, every curve resting against him one last time then moving away to resume her seat.

  

Rupert stood in the shadows, erection throbbing. He did not dare touch himself for fear of coming. He stared at the back of Clarisse’s head as he struggled to regain control. Finally succeeding, he retook his seat next to his fiancée, impatient for the ballet to end.

  

The end of the ballet and their subsequent departure took little time and soon the engaged couple were once again in the back of the limousine, returning to the Palace. They sat across from one another again, neither saying a word. Arriving at the Palace, Rupert assisted Clarisse from the car and into the Palace. He escorted her to her suite of rooms, on the West side of the Palace, far from his rooms. His parents had insisted on her suite of rooms be as far from his as possible. His father had made it quite clear that while he could not prevent Rupert from seducing Clarisse, he remembered his own engagement; he could make it as difficult as possible for him. Stopping at her door, Rupert nodded to the guard before leaning down to offer a goodnight kiss to Clarisse.

  

“Would you like to come in for a nightcap?” Clarisse asked. She did not miss the flare of desire in Rupert’s eyes.

  

“I don’t think that would be a good idea, my dear,” he said.

  

Clarisse moved closer to Rupert, her hands softly caressing his chest. “I do,” she said, placing a soft kiss to Rupert’s lips. Rupert looked at Morgan who stood guard. He was one of the older guards, specifically chosen for his discretion and his loyalty to his father. He noted the older man’s expression betrayed nothing but he knew he was following the entire conversation. Before Rupert could form a reply to Clarisse, Clarisse stepped away from him, turned to Morgan and said. “Morgan, his Highness is coming in for a nightcap. He will leave in an hour, is that acceptable?”

  

“Yes, my Lady,” answered Morgan, looking at his watch and noting the time. “1:15, my Lady?”

  

“1:45,” said Clarisse.

  

“As you wish, my Lady,” answered Morgan, bowing, before resuming his stance.

  

Clarisse turned back to Rupert, took his hand in hers and led him into her suite. Closing the door, she leaned against it.

  

“What was that?” asked Rupert, clearly confused.

  

“What was what?” asked Clarisse, watching Rupert through lidded eyes.

  

“The conversation with Morgan,” said Rupert.

  

“Oh that,” said Clarisse, moving away from the door. “Morgan and I have an agreement,” said Clarisse as she walked over, stopping in front of him. Reaching up she pulled Rupert’s head down to whisper in his ear. “He allows me some time alone with you and I don’t elude my security team. Now since we have only…,” Clarisse glanced over at the clock on the mantle, “one hour and twenty minutes I think we should be doing more important things than talking about my agreement with Morgan, don’t you?”

  

“What do you have in mind?” asked Rupert, closing his arms around Clarisse. He knew what he wanted to do, he wanted to make love to Clarisse but he knew he could not. She deserved more than an hour’s worth of his time. He wanted to worship her and an hour was not sufficient time for that. He bent his head and kissed her. Kissing her for an hour would have to do.

  

Clarisse sighed into the kiss; she allowed Rupert to kiss her for a few minutes, before she gently broke the kiss and stepped out of Rupert’s embrace. She moved back a few paces, smiling softly at the confused expression on Rupert’s face. Reaching behind her she slowly pulled the zipper to her dress down. She let the dress slip off her shoulders, then down her arms to her waist before she gently pushed it down over her hips to pool at her feet.

 

Rupert’s groan was loud in the quiet of the room. “Clarisse…,” he began his voice rough as he looked at his fiancée dressed in little more than a few scraps of silk. “What are you…?” he started to ask as she walked towards him. She placed a finger to his lips.

  

“Shh…I want you Rupert. I want you to take me to bed and make love to me. I want to feel you in me, on me, around me,” she said. Removing her finger from his lips, she pulled his head down to hers. “Don’t you want that?” she asked, before kissing him, moving her lips over his slowly, thoroughly.

  

Rupert moaned into the kiss, enjoying the feel of Clarisse kissing him, of her in his arms but he knew he had to stop this. Breaking the kiss, he said, “But we only have an hour…not enough time…” Clarisse’s lips cut off the rest of his words.

  

As she kissed him, she pushed his tuxedo jacket off his shoulders, before undoing his bow tie and the studs, which held his shirt, closed. Once his shirt was undone, she opened it and pushed it off his shoulders. The shirt caught at his wrists. Clarisse broke their kiss, grabbed his arm and undid his cufflinks uncaring when they dropped to the carpet. Once divested of his shirt, Clarisse pulled up Rupert’s undershirt, urging him to remove it. Rupert pulled his shirt off, his breath catching when Clarisse took first one nipple then the other in her mouth, biting and nipping at them.

  

Rupert pulled Clarisse’s head up and captured her lips in a devastating kiss. His hands fumbled with the closure of her strapless bra, finally opening it and pulling it off her to bare her breasts. He leaned back, whispered, “Beautiful,” before bending his head to capture a nipple between his lips. He suckled and nipped at the tender flesh, her moans urging him on. He only stopped when he felt her hands fumbling with the closure at the front of his pants. Releasing her breast with an audible pop, he tore open his pants, toeing off his shoes and socks before shoving his pants and his boxers down his legs and stepping out of them. Clarisse removed the rest of her undergarments uncaring that she ripped her stockings in her haste to undress. Once free from the restrictive confines of his pants, Rupert’s erection bobbed up against his stomach. Clarisse’s gaze fell on his erection, and she moved toward Rupert trapping his throbbing length between their bodies. A shiver ran through her and her sex throbbed at the heat and moisture from him.

 

Pulling Rupert’s head down to hers she kissed him, her tongue tangling with his as she moved her hips against his body, teasing her sex against his hard shaft. Rupert moaned at Clarisse’s actions and he knew if there was any chance of him maintaining any control he would have to, they would have to slow down.

  

Clarisse sex throbbed and she could feel the moisture escaping her. It felt as if it was running down her legs. She needed more, much more. She wanted to feel Rupert inside her; she wanted to feel his heat as he moved within her. She lifted her leg to wrap it around his thigh, somehow knowing instinctively that doing so would bring her pleasure. Her movement caused her sex to open, allowing the head of Rupert’s penis to stroke along her wet flesh. She groaned and moved her hips, shaking as her movements brought her pleasure.

  

“Oh God…Rupert...,” she begged. She needed to feel more of him. Her body was quivering in response to her need. She rubbed her breasts against the hair of his chest, her actions sending tendrils of fire from her breasts to her sex.

 

Rupert’s hands moved to Clarisse’s lush bottom and lifted her up into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his hips, the tip of his penis trapped between the two of them. He could feel her wet heat against the head of his erection. He thrust his hips against hers, causing her to gasp and moan in response. He thrust once more, feeling the head of his erection slip into her as she flinched in response. She was so tight. So wet and tight. He wanted to stop, wanted to lay her down on the bed, wanted to make her first time as comfortable as possible but all his wants mattered little when he felt her slip over and down onto him. Her body squeezed against his erection, and he thrust back against her, swallowing her gasps, as she grew accustomed to the feel of him inside her. He did his best to keep his thrusts shallow, his arms shaking with the effort of holding her. As she grew accustomed to him, she began to meet his thrusts with ones of her own, until soon their thrusts increased in speed and strength.

  

The effort of keeping them standing was too much for Rupert and he slowly sank to his knees. Clarisse leant back in his arms, bowing her back in response to the feelings that were coursing through her body until her shoulders came to rest on the floor. She moved her hips as Rupert continued to thrust into her, his hands and lips caressing wherever he could reach.

  

The angle of Rupert’s thrusts, of his shaft rubbing against her clitoris drove Clarisse’s arousal and desire higher until she could feel every nerve in her body stretch taut before suddenly snapping. Her body shook as she rode wave after wave of exquisite pleasure so intense it turned every cell, bone and muscle in her body to liquid. She barely registered Rupert’s roar of release or even the weight of him as he collapsed on top of her. All she felt was the exquisite lethargic feeling that permeated her entire body before her eyes closed and she slipped into a light doze.

  

When she next woke, it was to the warmth of another’s body next to her in bed. Turning she gazed into the sleeping face of Rupert, her lover and soon to be husband. She knew he would have to wake early in order to leave her rooms unseen but not for a few more hours. Placing a soft kiss to his lips, she laid her head onto his chest, slipping into sleep once again.

 

 

**The End**

 


	21. Unexpected- The Twenty-First Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarisse gives Rupert some unexpected but welcome news.

**Unexpected**

  

 

Clarisse rinsed her mouth and washed her hands before leaving the bathroom. That was the third time this week she had become sick. Twice in the morning and once in the evening. She had a suspicion of why she was getting sick and it was not from nerves. Her wedding was in less than three weeks, but unlike every other bride, Clarisse was not nervous about her wedding day. She was actually looking forward to it. Therefore, nerves were not to blame for her occasional bouts of wrenching nausea. No the reason behind her sickness was a bit more mundane. The reactions though were going to be far from mundane.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Clarisse watched Rupert sit down heavily. The look on his face was priceless and Clarisse bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice gruff.

 

“Fairly sure,” answered Clarisse. “The signs fit as do some of the changes to my body. But I would have to have the test performed to be absolutely certain,” she added.

  

Rupert stood and came to kneel in front of Clarisse. His hand shook as he placed it on her abdomen. “I’m going to be a papa,” he said awed.

  

Clarisse’s eyes filled with tears. She covered his hand with hers. “Yes, you are. You are going to be a papa,” she said, smiling through her tears when he moved their hands, placed his head on her stomach, and listened.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Rupert squeezed Clarisse’s hand. “Relax,” he said. “Everything will be fine.”

  

“That is easy for you to say,” she said. “They are going to be so disappointed.”

  

“No, they won’t. Not with you. Never with you,” Rupert said, placing a soft kiss to Clarisse’s lips. Pulling back Rupert added, “Now with me….Papa may order be hung by my toes in the courtyard. But with you he will be thrilled.” Rupert tucked a strand of hair behind Clarisse’s ear before turning to face the door. He squeezed Clarisse’s hand. “Well, here goes nothing.”

  

The door to the throne room opened and Rupert and Clarisse entered. Rupert had requested a formal audience with his parents and soon to be in laws. The closing of the doors were loud in the relative quiet of the throne room.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  

The women were over the moon. Tears and hugs greeted the news. The men were just as excited but there was a bit of reserve from both of them. Rupert was sure they were refraining from calling him on the carpet in respect for Clarisse.

  

He watched as Lord Antony and Lady Isabelle then his father, Eduard and his mother, Margaret, embraced Clarisse and congratulated her on their good news. He was surprised when Marcus, the Head of Security and Morgan, Clarisse’s personal guard offered their congratulations. Eventually, the two mamas took the mama-to-be off to enjoy copious amounts of tea, while planning for the newest member of the Royal family. All done, of course, in complete secret. The announcement of the pregnancy would be made after their honeymoon ended. Fudging the due date by a few weeks was easily done.

 

Rupert watched as the women left the throne room and the door closed. Once the door closed, he turned around, only to be met by a fist to his jaw. He dropped to the floor, rubbing his jaw and looking up at his glaring soon to be father-in-law.

  

“I should kill you. And if you were any other man, I would. But I don’t want to deny your Papa and my King his heir. Although taking a strip out of your hide is becoming more and more appealing,” Lord Antony said, before offering his hand to help Rupert stand.

  

Rupert accepted the hand up. He rubbed his jaw; he never realized his father-in-law had such a strong punch. Although he should have known, he was a member of the Genovian Army’s Rangers. He would have to be in great shape to be part of that elite group. As Rupert moved his jaw back and forth, he felt a hard slap to the back of his head. 

 

“Ow,” he said. His father stood next to him glaring, Rupert rubbed his now sore head.

  

“What were you thinking?” his father asked between clenched teeth. “No, don’t answer that. I know exactly what you were thinking,” his father said. “You weren’t thinking. Do you have any idea the problems which could arise from this little stunt of yours?” his father asked.

 

“Sir…,” Rupert began.

 

“I don’t want to hear any excuses,” his father said, stalking over to sit down on the throne. “As of today, you are not to be alone with Clarisse. Until your wedding in two weeks every single moment of your time will be chaperoned.” Turning to Marcus, his Head of Security, King Eduard said, “Marcus, I want no less than four men shadowing my son, twenty-four seven. He is to go nowhere without guards. And I mean nowhere!”

 

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” answered Marcus. He was already making a mental list of the guards to assign.

  

His Majesty turned to glare at his son. “You are dismissed,” he said to Rupert. “Marcus, Morgan, escort him to his suite,” ordered His Majesty, waving his hand in dismissal as the three men bowed and left the throne room. Antony waited until the door closed completely before he walked up to his King and friend. Eduard waved him to sit. Sitting down on the top step Antony waited.

  

“That idiot boy,” swore Eduard.

  

“It wasn’t only his fault,” said Antony.

  

“I know,” said Eduard, running a hand through his hair. Antony started to chuckle.

  

“What’s so funny?” asked Eduard.

  

Antony turned to look at his friend. “I was just thinking back to my father-in-law’s reaction when we informed him Isabelle was expecting four months prior to our wedding. The man actually grabbed a horsewhip. It was Isabelle’s mother who kept him from beating me.”

 

Eduard chuckled. “Margaret’s father actually took a shot at me. Luckily, the man was a crack shot and deliberately missed.” The men laughed. Eduard stood, Antony followed. Slapping his friend on the back Eduard said, “Shall we go join the ladies and our soon to be grandson?”

  

“It could be a granddaughter,” said Antony.

  

“No, it will be a son, of that I am sure,” said Eduard. “We will need at least two boys to keep the girls safe.”

  

“How many are you hoping for?” asked Antony, following Eduard out of the throne room.

  

“Four would be nice,” said Eduard as they walked down the hall.

  

“Six would be nicer,” said Antony.

  

“Two boys, four girls?” asked Eduard.

  

“At least,” answered Antony. “At least.”

 

 

**The End**

 

 

 


	22. Five Times- The Twenty- Second Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five times Joseph kissed Clarisse and the one time he didn’t. The first and second are related. The third stands on its own. The fourth and fifth are loosely related. The final one stands on its own.

**Five Times**

**  
**

**_The First Time_ -**

  

Joseph paced back and forth in the waiting room, nervous and excited. The other people in the waiting room smiled at each other as they watched the normally calm and reserved man pace. Rupert stood and walked over to his best friend and Head of Security.

  

“Relax, my friend,” he said, placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “These things take time.”

  

“It’s taking too long,” said Joseph. “What if something is wrong?”

  

“Joseph, nothing is wrong,” said Clarisse, as she came to stand next to her friend. “Babies, especially first babies are notorious for taking their time entering the world.” Taking Joseph’s arm she forced him to sit down. She knelt in front of him. “Elena pregnancy has been difficult, yes but the delivery of your son...”

  

“Daughter,” Joseph corrected. He wanted a girl. Let his brothers have all the boys, he wanted a girl with dark hair and green eyes like her mother.

  

Clarisse shared a smile with Rupert, continuing, “Your child will come into the world when he or she is ready. Now relax…,” Clarisse was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor.

  

“Mr. Romero, Your Majesties,” greeted the doctor.

  

“My wife?” asked Joseph, standing quickly, cutting off the doctor.

  

“Your wife is fine,” said the doctor, smiling. “She and your daughter are in recovery.”

 

At the news of his daughter, Joseph turned to Clarisse and Rupert. “I have a daughter!” he shouted excitedly. He grabbed Clarisse and Rupert, hugging and kissing them both. Turning back to the doctor he asked, “When can I see them?”

 

The doctor smiled. “In fifteen minutes,” he replied. Offering his congratulations once more, he left.

  

Joseph sat down once more, smiling. “I have a daughter,” he whispered. Rupert and Clarisse smiled at their friend, congratulating him again. The other members of the security team present also offered their congratulations. There was one person though, who wasn’t happy about the news of Joseph having a daughter, but he offered his congratulations anyway.

  

“Congratulations, Joseph,” Prince Pierre said. Pierre didn’t look happy.

  

“Thank you Pierre,” replied Joseph. He noticed the young prince’s forlorn look. “What’s the matter, _mi príncipe_?” asked Joseph. Pierre looked up at the Joseph. “You had a girl,” said Pierre. “I wanted you to have a boy. That way I would have someone to play with,” said Pierre, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Now I won’t have anyone to play with. Can’t you trade her in for a boy?”

 

Joseph laughed. “No, _mi príncipe_ I can’t, but I promise you will like her.”

  

“If you say so,” said Pierre. “I still think you should trade her in for a boy.”

  

 

**_T_ _he Second Time_ -**

  

Christmas was in full swing at the Palace. Greenery, bells, pears and bows decorated every surface. Christmas carols could be heard everywhere. Everyone was in the holiday spirit save one.

 

That one person was Joseph Romero, Head of Security for the Royal Family. To him Christmas was just another day. He had no family to celebrate with- no wife, no daughter, both had been taken from him by a senseless accident. His brothers and their families were scattered around the world, leaving him alone. Granted he had friends, Rupert and Clarisse always included him in their celebrations. But it was often too hard to watch the young princes during this time. The joy and wonder in their faces at all the decorations and lights. How their eyes lit up as they opened their presents on Christmas morning. It reminded him too often of the same joy and wonder he used to see in his Isabel’s face.

 

Joseph discovered it was often easier for him to spend the day alone, in his rooms with a bottle of whiskey or vodka to help numb the pain. It was one of the reasons he often took a few days off during the Christmas holidays. The amount of alcohol he consumed during this time prevented him from effectively carrying out his duties.

  

Clarisse picked up the bouquets of roses, carnations and snowdrops. Today was Christmas. The boys were playing with their new gifts while Rupert took care of the never-ending royal duties, even the holidays did not preclude. She was off to pay her respects to her dear friend and the little girl she had hoped one day would be part of the the family.

  

The air was cold and crisp. The snow crunched softly under her booted feet as Clarisse walked towards the Palace cemetery. She thanked Grant as he held open the gate that marked the entrance to the cemetery.

  

“I’ll wait here, ma’am,” said Grant, knowing Her Majesty would want to visit the graves alone.

  

“Thank you Grant,” Her Majesty replied. Clarisse walked through the quiet cemetery. Many of the headstones were adorned with greenery and flowers, many of the Palace members visiting family and friends who rested here. Clarisse finally came to a stop in front of a small set of headstones. Both were dark granite, one top was smooth, while the other had small animals decorating it. Clarisse knelt down and brushed away the snow that hid the names. As she did she spoke quietly.

  

“Hello Elena, my dear friend, hello Isabel, my darling. It’s been another year and Christmas is here once again. I’ve brought you both the flowers you love. Roses and carnations for you Elena and snowdrops for you Isabel,” said Clarisse.

  

“I don’t know if Joseph has come to visit you, but seeing how the snow is piled I doubt he has. I am sorry that he hasn’t come to visit.” Clarisse traced the names on the stones. “The boys send their love, especially Pierre. He misses you Isabel. I miss you. I had hoped you and him…no…no I won’t speak of that today. Instead, I will tell you about your Papa, Isabel and you Elena about your husband. He is doing well. At least as well, as can be expected. I know he misses you but he is coping better than he once was. He finally put your picture back out, the one taken when we were all on holiday in Scotland; the one of you sitting on the rock surrounded by heather. It is finally back on the shelf in his office. And you Isabel, he finally put the picture of you and Pierre back up. And while he is coping I still worry about him...” The sound of crunching snow startled Clarisse.

  

She whirled around surprised. “Joseph,” she said, surprised at finding him here.

 

Joseph staggered up to the gravestones and dropped to his knees. He stretched his hand out to the names carved onto the heavy granite. Clarisse watched as Joseph traced the names.

  

“Joseph?” said Clarisse.

  

“I miss them so much,” he whispered, his words slurred. “I miss them so, so much.”

  

Clarisse placed a hand on Joseph’s arm. “I know,” she said. “I miss them too,” she added squeezing Joseph’s arm.

  

Joseph stared down at the hand on his arm. He could feel the warmth of the hand through his jacket. He was so cold and so tired. The warmth he felt was seductive, so alive. It felt so different from the cold empty feeling that seemed to be part of him. Raising his gaze, he stared into the concerned eyes of Clarisse. Her eyes were warm, just like her hand. Joseph’s muddled brain wondered if she was warm everywhere. He reached out, his hands clamped down on her arms in a vice-like grip. He pulled her forward, and his mouth captured hers in a devastating kiss.

  

Clarisse gasped. She tried to push Joseph away but failed. She struggled against his kiss, but he was stronger, his tongue sweeping in to rob her of breath as he pushed her down into the cold snow. She struggled against him as he pinned her. She felt his hands tearing open her coat, moving over her body. She tried to tear her mouth from his to call out for Grant but he fisted her hair, keeping her head still, preventing her from crying out. She could feel the tears escaping her eyes as she struggled against him. Her hands pushed and scratched at him. He ignored her struggles as he continued to kiss her. Just as suddenly as the attacked happened, it ended.

  

“Sorry... oh god…I am so sorry,” Joseph sobbed as he clutched his arms around his middle and began rocking. “So sorry…so sorry.”

  

Clarisse stared at Joseph as he rocked back and forth mumbling sorry. Whatever had prompted him to act as he had was now past and instead of the strong, quietly intense man whom she was used to before her was now a fragile, bereft man who missed his wife and daughter.

  

Clarisse sat up, buttoned her coat and moved to sit next to Joseph. A soft hand to his cheek had him turning her way. The look in his eyes was one of wariness, and extreme devastation. Clarisse didn’t say anything; instead, she gathered Joseph into her arms and comforted him as he cried. Later, they would have to discuss what happened but right now, at this very moment, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was offering comfort to her friend.

  

_**The Third Time-** _

  

Joseph watched. From his vantage point, he could see the entire ballroom. He watched as she danced with every man who asked her. He watched as her husband ignored her longing looks and continued his discussions. He watched as she walked over to her husband, whispered something to him and how her husband reacted. The brief look of pain that crossed her face had him standing up straighter. When she turned and walked out of the ballroom, toward the balcony he radioed his team, telling them he would follow her.

  

He followed her out into the warm night and stopped just near her. He knew she was aware of his presence, she was always aware of his presence. A soft sniff had him removing his handkerchief from his inside coat pocket and handing it to her.

  

“Thank you Joseph.” Her words were soft as she accepted the linen square.

 

“No, thanks are needed, Your Majesty,” Joseph replied.

 

 Clarisse just sniffed in answer. He watched her stare into the night, as she regained her composure.

  

“Joseph?” she asked.

 

“Yes ma’am?” he answered.

  

“Would you do something for me?” she asked, her soft voice forcing Joseph to move closer to her.

  

“Anything, Your Majesty,” answered Joseph.

  

“Would you kiss me?” she asked.

  

“Kiss you?”

  

“Yes.”

  

“Before I answer may I ask why?” he said.

  

“For a variety of reasons. But the simplest one is because I have never been kissed while standing on a balcony on warm summer’s night with music playing behind me,” she said. Looking up at the bright stars, she waved her hand and said, “Never mind. It is a foolish dream of a foolish woman.” Clarisse began to move away, to put some distance between her and Joseph. Joseph’s hand on her arm stopped her movement. She turned and looked at her Head of Security.

  

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I will kiss you, on the balcony, under the stars with the music playing behind us.”

  

He drew an unresisting Clarisse into his arms. One hand moved to cradle her head while one moved along her back to settle on her spine. His thumb rubbed a soft circle against the fabric of her gown. Tilting her head, Joseph bent his head and kissed her lips softly. His lips moved over hers slowly, learning their texture as he waited for a response from her. When he felt her arms move up his chest to around his neck he deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to her. Clarisse tentatively opened her mouth under Joseph’s. She had not been kissed like this in years and was surprised at the heat that flashed through her body when Joseph’s tongue touched hers. She moaned in response, her body moving closer to his as their lips, and tongues tasted and teased each other. So involved with kissing each other, neither noticed the presence of a third person on the balcony.

  

Rupert watched as Clarisse kissed Joseph. He watched as she surrendered to the kiss, to the passion that the other man was fuelling. He watched as Joseph held her tenderly, enjoying her passion while ensuring her safety.

  

Rupert continued to watch as the kiss ended. He watched as Clarisse offered a soft caress to Joseph’s cheek as Joseph placed a soft kiss to the palm of her hand. He watched as they spoke, their words too soft for him to hear. He watched as Clarisse smiled, her entire face lighting up in pleasure before she placed a small kiss to Joseph’s lips, handing Joseph a handkerchief to wipe any lipstick from his lips. He watched as Clarisse straightened her gown, asking Joseph something. He tucked a strand of hair behind Clarisse’s ear then offered his arm. Rupert watched as Clarisse took Joseph’s arm and the two returned to the ballroom.

  

Minutes passed before Rupert moved. Placing his champagne glass down on the stone balustrade, Rupert put his hands in his pockets and walked down into the garden. He had a lot to think about, quite a lot.

_  
_

**_The Fourth Time-_ **

 

Clarisse loved to watch Joseph swim. She loved to watch him move- it didn’t matter if he was dancing, walking, running, or even swimming- she simply loved to watch him move. There was something so graceful about him. She could watch him forever. And now that they were married, she could watch him openly whenever she wanted.

  

Clarisse watched as he finished his laps and pulled himself up and out of the pool. She watched him grab a towel, wipe his face and walk over to where she sat poolside, under the large umbrella.

  

“Have a nice swim?” she asked, looking up at him.

  

“Wonderful,” he answered, bending down and placing a swift kiss to her lips. Clarisse placed a hand to the back of his head to prevent him from moving and returned his swift kiss with a slow one of her own.

  

She loved to watch Joseph move, but she loved kissing him even more.

  

 

_**The Fifth Time-** _

  

The forfeit was decided. Since Joseph and Shades had both lost the bet they would have to pay the forfeit. Queen Amelia and her grandmother had given quite a lot of thought to the forfeit and finally decided on a suitable penalty.

  

When the two men were informed of the penalty they would have to pay, each one sighed heavily and said, “If we must, we must.”

  

They took their positions in front of the women and prepared to pay their penalty. Ten minutes later any thoughts of penalties, forfeits or punishments were forgotten as Clarisse and Joseph along with Amelia and Shades continued to kiss.

  

 

 ** _The One Time He Didn’t-_**

 

He refused to kiss her goodbye.

  

Amelia didn’t understand.

 

Nicholas didn’t understand.

 

The children didn’t understand.

 

The only one who understood was Clarisse herself. She simply smiled at him as he held her hand and told him she loved him.

  

She slipped away as he held her hand and when everyone had finally left him alone with her, he stood up, bent over and placed a soft kiss to her forehead then her lips, his tears falling on her cheeks as he whispered, _“Te amo, reina mia. Te amo.”_

 

**The End**

 

 

 


	23. If- The Twenty-Third Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would be different if roles were changed?

**If**

  

Clarisse moved through the dark corridor, almost running. They were meeting tonight for the first time in weeks. She was nervous and excited. She also felt a guilty it was this man she loved, and not her husband.

  

She had not planned on falling in love with him. It had just happened. Her marriage had been arranged when she was still a baby. She was raised with the knowledge that one day she would marry and become Queen of Genovia. Her husband was a good man, a kind man, an honourable man but she did not love him. He was her friend, her very best friend but that was the extent of her feelings for him. There was no passion in her marriage, no spark and for years, Clarisse had not realized what she was missing. How could she know what she was missing when she had never experienced passion?

  

All of that changed when he arrived. Their first meeting had left her feeling nervous and tense. Something she had not been prepared for. When they met the second time, his kiss to her hand caused goosebumps to erupt and a tingle to shoot through her body. When he was offered the position of Head of Security, she knew with certainty her life would change.

  

The change was not gradual. Their first argument over what he considered proper procedure for her safety resulted in her slapping him, and him grinning at her. Their second argument, weeks later, resulted in her in his arms. She had tripped and he had caught her. His scent and warmth had caused her entire body to tingle and her breath to come in gasps. However, it wasn’t until the night of the Genovian Ball, her husband too busy conducting business to dance with and his casual order to him to dance with her that she realized she was attracted to him. By the end of the ball, she was a mass of confusion, her body tingling in longing for his touch.

  

It was the first time in years she actively sought her husband’s bed. Later in the dark, she had cried silent tears, finally admitting to herself that she was attracted to her Head of Security. Weeks went by, she avoided being alone with him, of speaking with him, and avoided his presence until finally he had demanded to know why she was acting in such a manner. Her admission to him was both startling and freeing. She had not expected anything from him, had actually expected him to deny any attraction to her. But when he admitted he was in love with her, had been since the very first time they had met, it seemed only natural to step into his arms and kiss him. Their kisses escalated and soon she found herself needing more. In her office, in the middle of day, when anyone could walk in on them, they had made love against the desk. Later that evening, he had welcomed her into his bed, where she spent many hours loving him.

  

Now they were meeting once again. Her stomach filled with butterflies and her heart raced. Reaching the hidden door that opened into his suite, she pressed the switch and stepped through the entrance. The sight that greeted her caused her to pale. In the suite of her Head of Security, and lover Rupert Renaldi stood her husband and King, Joseph Montero.

  

Both men stood facing her and her husband Joseph was the first to speak.

  

“Come in my dear,” he said. “We have much to discuss.”

  

**The End**


	24. After the Workout- The Twenty-Fourth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shower after a workout is an interesting experience.   
> Author Notes: This story might look familiar to some. It was an older story in another genre that I decided fit our favourite HOS perfectly.

**After the Workout**

**  
**

The steam filled the shower, billowing up towards the ceiling. It clung to the walls, painting them in strange geometric patterns before sliding down to the floor to pool at his feet. Standing under the hot spray, he rolled his shoulders, working the kinks out of them. The workout had felt great. The strain on his muscles made him feel alive.

  

Grabbing the bottle of soap Joseph sniffed it, enjoying the crisp smell. Clarisse had given it to him as a gift with strict instructions to use it after one of his workouts. Squeezing a bit onto the little poof, he began to scrub the sweat and tension from his body. Running the poof over his arm, he felt the tingling sensation left in its wake. Scrubbing his other arm then his chest, he began to relax. Humming a soft tune, he washed his abdomen and down his legs, enjoying the fresh tingly feeling from the soap. Washing the back of his legs he ran the poof across his buttocks, the tingling followed.

  

Rinsing the poof, he applied more soap. Scrubbing his lower abdomen, he moved towards his penis, surprised to find it partially erect. Running the poof over his penis and testicles, he inhaled a sharp breath at the sensation.

  

The tingling so pleasant a few minutes before now caused an entirely different reaction. He felt himself harden, lengthening in answer to the sensation. His hand drifted across the soapy smooth surface of his cock. His eyes closed in bliss. Suddenly realizing what he was doing his eyes flew open. He looked around. He was still alone. No one had been witness to his lapse of control.

  

Taking a deep breath, he tried to finish showering in a matter-of-fact way.

  

He reached down, grasping his penis. His knees buckled at the heat radiating from his hand.

  

“Oh god,” he groaned.

  

The heat was in direct contrast to the cool, tingling feel of the soap. He leaned back against the warm tiles under the showerhead. His eyes drifted shut as his hand massaged his hard cock. He pulled on it, sliding the skin up and down, moving the cool soap across it. His left hand drifted down to his testicles. He rolled them between his fingers, pulling them down, away from his body. His right hand sped up, moving up and down over the silky steel of his erection. His breathing came faster and faster, as his hands pleasured his body. A low guttural moan escaped. He was so close, so close to coming.

  

He tried to slow down, to prolong the pleasure but something; someone was pulling at his senses. It wanted him to come- fast and hard!

  

His hands pulled, rolled and fondled, driving his arousal higher. He felt the unmistakable pressure, which signalled his impending orgasm. Locking his knees, his hand moved quickly over his throbbing cock, pulling, grasping and squeezing. He felt the flare and flash of his orgasm and the first stream of come escaped the inflamed head of his cock followed by another then another. His knees gave way, in response to the overwhelming pleasure he felt, and he slid down the wall to sit on the floor of the shower, eyes closed and gasping for breath. He remained there until his legs could once again obey his brain's command.

  

Finally able to stand he rinsed off. Turning the shower off, he reached for his towel and wrapped it about his waist. Grabbing the other one he quickly dried his head, draping it around his shoulders.

  

Walking to where his clothes lay he found small envelope sitting on top of them. Wondering who left it, he picked it up and the telltale scent of Chanel No. 5 wafted up to him.

 

Opening it, he read, "I enjoyed the show. You are a man of many ' _hidden_ ' talents. Next time perhaps I can show my appreciation in person."

 

 Smiling, he tucked the note into his jacket pocket. Dressing, he made a mental note to show her more of his ‘ _hidden’_ talents in the future.

 

 

**The End**

 

 


	25. An Intimate Encounter- The Twenty-Fifth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph and Clarisse enjoy an intimate encounter.

**An Intimate Encounter**

 

Clarisse sat down on the settee. Joseph sat beside her, close enough to touch her, but not touching her. Clarisse turned and placed her hands on his chest. She needed to tell him, to make him understand that she wanted this she wanted them. She stared into his eyes. She could smell the cologne he used this evening, mixed with the scent that was uniquely his. She could feel her body warming. Feel the blood rushing thru her veins. It was always like this when she was this close to him. Her fingers flexed against his chest.

  

Joseph felt her fingers flex on his chest and sucked in his breath. Having her close and wanting her so much, he had no idea how long he would be able to maintain control. He was able to smell the shampoo, the perfume and the something that simply screamed to his body, Clarisse. He knew if she looked down, she would see the physical proof of his desire for her.

  

Whenever she was near his body betrayed him. He hadn't suffered this many erections since he was a teenager- he thought ruefully. But it wasn't just her physical presence that affected him, there was something inside her that called to him, sang to him, pulled to him. His mother had called it _'being home’_. He had never really known what she meant when she explained it. Had no barometer with which to measure her explanation against, he hadn't ever experienced the need to just _be_ with another person. But with Clarisse, he felt it; he now knew what he mother meant. She was his safe harbour, his home.

  

A lock of hair fell in front of Clarisse's face and Joseph reached up almost absently, smoothing it and tucking it behind her ear. Clarisse's eyes widen and her face suffused with colour at this simple gesture. Her tongue peeked out from between her lips and moved slowly over her bottom lip. Joseph's eyes followed her tongues' every movement. His hand rose once again to her face, his fingers stroking the side of her face and his thumb followed the same path over her bottom lip. Clarisse felt the pressure on her lower lip. Her tongue slid out and swept over the tip of his thumb. Joseph inhaled sharply. Clarisse opened her lips a little and softly sucked the tip of Joseph's thumb into her mouth, running her tongue over the tip.

  

Joseph groaned.

  

His hands moved to either side of her face and he pulled her lips to his, softly kissing them before pulling her impossibly closer and crushing her mouth beneath his. It was Clarisse's turn to groan. This kiss was nothing like the one she had given him months ago. This was a kiss to devour; a kiss she had been waiting for, yearning for; a kiss she had only dreamed about.

  

Clarisse's arms wound themselves around Joseph's neck. She moved closer to him on the settee. She moaned in frustration, she wasn't close enough. She needed to get closer. She pulled back, breaking the kiss. She stood, kicked off her shoes then pushed Joseph back against the cushions. Seeing his look of confusion, Clarisse wasted no time sitting astride his lap. Joseph gasped when he felt her settle on his lap. He could feel her heat and she could feel his need for her. She wiggled a bit to get comfortable. Joseph reacted instantly! His hands gripped her hips and stilled her. One hand moved up her back, grabbing her head and pulling her to him for another kiss. Clarisse hands moved over his chest, revelling in the hardness she found there. They moved over his shoulders to his neck and over the small bit of hair at the nape of his neck.

  

Joseph broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Clarisse. Joseph could feel the heat from her through her pants. He could see how her nipples pebbled in the silk of her bra. He knew she was just as aroused as he was.

  

But he couldn't make love to her.

  

He couldn't place her in this position. No matter how much he wanted her, he…they couldn’t do this. He knew that he had to be the one to stop this; it was the honourable thing to do. His personal code of honour wouldn’t allow her to be harmed because of him. Clarisse watched him beneath partially closed eyes. She saw the emotions flitting across his face.

  

"Clarisse, we can't….we can't do this," he said.

  

Clarisse leaned back and simply asked, "Why?"

  

Joseph closed his eyes for a brief moment and then opened them; looking at the woman, he loved more than life itself. He simply said, "It's not a good idea there are too many…."

  

Clarisse placed her finger on Joseph's lips and said, "Again, why? Don't tell me you don't want to. Because I know that you do, that is evident. So again, why?"

  

Joseph couldn't believe that she could not see the ramifications of them making love.

  

"Clarisse, we can't," he replied again.

  

Clarisse rose from Joseph’s lap. She stood, and moved over to the fireplace, her hand coming to rest on the mantle. Joseph watched her every movement, wanting nothing more than to have her back in his arms. But he didn’t move. It was for the best if he put a stop to this now.

  

Clarisse dropped her hand, her arms went around her middle and hugging herself, she turned to Joseph.

  

"I understand," she said, the pain in her voice evident.

  

With those words, Joseph felt as if he had been shot. Pain exploded inside him. No physical wound could compare to the pain his soul experienced now. He knew that she did not, the despair and hurt he heard in her voice was more than he could handle. He walked towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened for a brief moment then leaned back into his chest. He placed his chin on top of her head.

  

"Clarisse,” he said," please understand there would be nothing more I would enjoy than making love with you but...” Clarisse tried to turn around but Joseph stopped her. "But if I do then everything will change. No longer will I just be your Head of Security. I will be your lover. My job is to protect you. Protect you against everything and everyone, including yourself. Are you prepared to risk the Crown, Genovia, and Mia’s future for the sake of a few minutes of pleasure? Because that is what would happen. Everything would be at risk if we continued this, I can't…no I won’t ask you to make any more sacrifices in your life,” he said.

  

Clarisse listened to the Joseph. Yes, there were many what ifs.

  

If the enemies of the Crown discovered their affair, everything would be at risk. Their affair would damage not only herself, but also Joseph, Mia and Genovia. If that happened, then the Renaldi rule and Genovia as they knew it would forever be changed.

 

Clarisse knew all of this. In fact, she had spent the better part of the past two nights awake, thinking about the repercussions of taking Joseph as her lover. And while the repercussions were dire, the benefits far outweighed them. For once in her life Clarisse wanted, no deserved to be selfish, to think of only herself and her happiness before everyone else. She heard the words he said but she also heard the ones he had not and those were the ones she asked about now.

  

"Joseph, just answer one thing. Do you love me?" Clarisse asked softly.

 

She felt Joseph stiffen, then relax. He answered simply, "More than life itself."

  

Clarisse turned in Joseph's arms, placed both hands on either side of his face and before her lips touched his she softly said, “I love you too."

  

Joseph groaned and crushed Clarisse to him. The kiss they shared was just as passionate as the previous ones but this time there was a touch of something else in it that caused both to shudder in delight.

  

Joseph picked Clarisse up. He carried her through the opened doors to her bedroom, and her bed. He kicked off his shoes before he lowered Clarisse slowly onto the soft bed, his lips never leaving hers. Finally breaking the kiss, he braced his weight on his forearms, and positioned his body over Clarisse's. Clarisse gasped at the sensation of heat that surrounded her.

  

Clarisse reached up and her fingertips followed the hills and valleys of his face, across his brow and down his cheeks. She traced across his chin and the crisp hair that lay there, over his lips, tracing the fullness of them. Her lips tingled in memory of how soft and supple his lips were. Her fingertips couldn't resist another gentle caress across his lips. Her breathing stopped when he took her finger and sucked it into his mouth, nibbling on the tip delicately. Her breathing resumed when he released it, only to have the caress repeated on her other one. Heat pooled in the deep recesses of her body. Her legs felt as if they were no longer attached to her body. She was positive they had turned to liquid and melted away. Her hands travelled to his neck following the line of his shirt, across his chest in a smooth caress. She wanted to explore his body completely. Clarisse tried her voice, not sure, if she had control over even that simple function.

  

"Lay down please," she asked him, softly. Joseph opened his eyes. They had closed of their own volition as Clarisse caressed him. He noted the look of passion mixed with curiosity on her face and answered her by simply shifting his weight and rolling onto his back. She kneeled up, gazing at him for a few minutes before reaching out and placing both her hands on his chest.

  

She caressed his chest through his shirt, sliding down to his stomach. She felt the muscles in his abdomen jump reflexively in answer to the caress. She began to unbutton the shirt that stood in between her and his very warm chest. With each button, Joseph's breathing became shallower. Her hands moved up across his chest, parting his shirt and pausing at his nipples for a brief scratch. Joseph jumped at the unexpected scratch but immediately settled back to enjoy the sensations from Clarisse. Clarisse caressed up his chest then down again, marvelling at how his skin seemed to dance under her fingertips. She moved her hands down to the top of his pants, her fingers reaching under the waistband to caress the quivering skin of his abdomen. Clarisse peaked up at Joseph and saw his eyes closed and his lips parted. She unbuckled his belt, laying it open, and then reached for the button that held his pants closed. Opening it, she grasped at the small tab at the top of his zipper and slowly unzipped his pants.

 

“ _Dios mio,”_ Joseph breathed as he felt her fingers brush against the fabric of his boxers. He shaft throbbed, and he knew if he didn’t take back some control he would be coming before he wanted to.

  

Joseph lifted his arms and moved his hands across Clarisse's back. Keeping his touches soft and firm, he explored the contours of her back and sides. Clarisse leaned into Joseph's hands stretching like a cat to follow his flowing fingertips. Joseph moved his hands under Clarisse's shirt and the warmth of his hands caused a purr to come from Clarisse. Stopping her caresses, Clarisse sat back and began to unbutton her blouse slowly. Joseph watched hungrily as she revealed her beautiful, sexy skin inch by inch. Finally unbuttoned, Clarisse pulled her arms free of her blouse. She let it drop to the floor. Suddenly shy, she dropped her gaze. Her breath caught as Joseph’s hands traced the outline of her bra from back to front. Raising her gaze, she looked into Joseph’s eyes as his fingertips followed the swell of her breasts. First her left then dipping into her cleavage, they followed the curve of her right breast. Clarisse's eyes drifted shut enjoying the feel of his hands on her. Her eyes flew open and she moaned when she felt the warmth of his breath and the tickle of his goatee followed by the moisture of his tongue mimicking the path his fingertips had followed. Joseph slowly removed her bra. His gaze roamed over her, heating her skin to a delicate blush and causing her nipples to crinkle in anticipation.

  

Clarisse has never felt so wanton and beautiful. Joseph's tongue flicked out to taste her nipple, causing another moan from Clarisse. He traced his tongue across her nipple again and slowly pulled it into his mouth and suckled tenderly.

  

Clarisse was sure her body was melting. She couldn't move any part of it. She knew she was still kneeling next to Joseph but how she remained upright was unknown. Heat was all she felt, glorious heat! Clarisse became aware of Joseph unbuttoning her pants. She felt his fingers travel down the length of her zipper, touching her skin delicately. He caressed her slowly, softly, revelling in the silkiness of her skin.

 

Joseph shifted his position. He knelt, facing Clarisse. He placed her hands on his chest and his on her waist. Clarisse's hands trailed down to Joseph's waist again and suddenly she was impatient to have him naked. Her hands pushed his pants and boxers down his hips to the tops of his thighs. Clarisse's eyes raked over his erection.

  

_‘Oh, he is magnificent_ ,’ she thought. She had to feel his texture. Her hand reached out to him. Clarisse looked up at Joseph. His eyes were dark, almost black and he simply watched her. His chest moved with deep breaths as he waited for her touch.

  

Her first touch was a soft tentative caress. Her hand moved over the silky steel of him softly, but after a few moments, the caress became firmer and more assured. Joseph watched Clarisse stroke him. Erotic was the only word that could describe what he witnessed now. With each stroke, Joseph pushed more of himself into Clarisse's hand. Clarisse's grip loosened and tightened on him, moving first slow, then fast then slow. With each caress, Joseph felt himself become harder, throbbing more until he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

  

"Clarisse?" he husked.

  

Clarisse heard his question and knew what he was asking. She released him, watching the expression of loss pass over his face. Moving to the edge of the bed, Clarisse swung her legs over and stood. She pushed her pants, panties and trousers socks off, stepping out of them. Standing before him completely naked, Clarisse couldn’t stop the blush that heated her skin as Joseph’s gaze raked over her naked body. Joseph remained on his knees. He did not attempt to move, he simply knelt in front of her in supplication. Clarisse reached for his hand, taking it in hers she pulled him forward. He moved off the bed and stood before her. Clarisse pushed his pants and boxers down, hooking his socks as she moved down his legs. She waited as he stepped out of his clothes leaving him as naked as she was. He made no move- he simply waited. Clarisse understood; he was allowing her to set the pace. From her position in front of him, she again was mesmerized by his manhood. How powerful it was, how powerful he was and all that power was hers to explore and use as she saw fit.

 

Joseph looked down at Clarisse and saw the mischievous look that danced across her face seconds before he felt her mouth engulf him. His knees buckled, a deep groan escaped from him and he fought to remain standing. The warmth from her mouth drove all thoughts from his mind, and the pleasure he felt was magnified ten times when he felt her hands cup him. He knew that if she continued this he would come. He placed his hands on her head trying to convey his need for her to stop, but she continued. He couldn't bring himself to pull her away, to make her stop. He resigned himself to enjoy this slow torture. Clarisse heard another moan escape from Joseph and she knew that he wasn't far from coming. She stopped suckling and simply traced his contours with her tongue. She felt him shudder above her, not in orgasm, but in an attempt to regain some control. Clarisse released him and sat back on her heels. She noted his ragged breathing, his body covered in sweat and his erection glistening with her saliva.

  

Clarisse stood. She trailed a soft hand up Joseph’s abdomen as he fought for control. She couldn’t stop the smug grin that escaped her as she watched him struggle to bring his body back under control. His eyes opened, they were black, his pupils obscuring their normal blue. He growled low, and pulled her into his arms, kissing her fiercely. Clarisse surrendered to his passion, wrapping her arms around his neck, his erection trapped between their bodies. Her breasts rubbed sensuously against the crisp hair of his chest as they continued to kiss. The kisses changed from heated to sensual and Clarisse sighed into Joseph’s mouth.

  

Breaking the kiss, Joseph looked into Clarisse’s eyes.

  

"Clarisse?" he asked a wealth of meaning in that one simple word. Clarisse understood what he was asking. Stepping out of his arms, she moved to the bed, lay down and opening her arms, relinquished complete control to Joseph.

 

Joseph moved to lie next to Clarisse. He began to caress her softly. His hand softly caressed her hip before he caressed down one leg and up the other, stopping just before he reached the juncture of her thighs. His hand trailed across her stomach before he moved up her torso, his fingertips brushing along the underside of her breasts enjoying the goosebumps that followed. His lips and tongue followed the same trail as his hands. He stopped to flick across her nipples, drawing one then the other into the heat of his mouth. He blew softly on her stomach, teasing the outline of her belly button before dipping inside, then crossing to her hip to nip it gently. Clarisse arched into his hands, trying to convey her wants to him. She could feel her wetness coating the insides of her thighs. She longed to feel him caress her wet centre but he avoided moving to the one place that was untouched by his caresses. His lips, fingers and tongue continued to torture her and Clarisse was sure that she was going to go mad with need. Her body was one large tightly stretched, quivering nerve.

  

Joseph looked at Clarisse enjoying her swollen parted lips, her ragged breathing, her pebbled nipples and the flush that covered her whole body. He knew that she was taut with need, the caresses only heightening her arousal. When he was sure that she could no longer withstand the tension building in her he gently caressed her outer lips, feeling the moisture pooled there. Clarisse arched into his hand, a groan of pure want escaping her. Joseph retreated, only to caress her again, this time allowing the tip of his finger to enter Clarisse.

  

Clarisse arched towards him. A whimper escaped, conveying all she felt to the man caressing her. He withdrew the tip of his finger and circled her again, applying a light pressure to her centre. Clarisse groaned with pure need, the tension in her building higher and higher. Joseph entered Clarisse again, this time allowing the full length of his finger to explore her.

  

Clarisse reaction was instantaneous! The tension in her expanded and exploded into white-hot pleasure. Her body shook with the force of her orgasm, her muscles straining, and squeezing. She felt Joseph withdraw his finger, only to enter her repeatedly, caressing her clitoris. She felt her body begin to tighten once more and with a cry she exploded once more, her body arching, her mind blanking as she shook from the force of her second orgasm. Slowly awareness came back to her. Her entire body felt languid, exhausted but energetic. She turned her head to look into the eyes of Joseph.

  

“Hi,” he said.

  

“Hmm…hello,” answered Clarisse, reaching up and pulling Joseph’s head down to hers, kissing him slowly. She pulled him toward her. He followed her urging settling between her legs. He could feel the heat and wetness from her and he shifted slightly, entering her slowly.

  

Clarisse sighed into Joseph’s mouth as he pushed into her. She was so wet, so hot. Joseph rocked his hips slowly, enjoying the heat of Clarisse. He felt her along every inch of himself, the heat partnered with the delicious moisture of her. He used every bit of control he possessed to keep his thrusts slow and even. He wanted to build the tension inside her again until she and he could no longer stand it.

  

Clarisse moved against Joseph. He was so hard, so hot inside her. He felt wonderful and Clarisse could feel the tension in her begin to build once more, to begin to coil into a tight ball. She undulated her hips, her movements picking up speed in direct contrast to Joseph's slow thrusting. Joseph felt Clarisse begin to move faster beneath him and he sped up his thrusts to match her movements. He thrust harder and faster into her following her lead lifting her legs higher onto his hips. Joseph felt the slow burn begin in his lower back, spreading across his hips to his groin. He knew his orgasm would be on him in a few minutes. He shifted his weight, kneeling up and pulled Clarisse up onto his thighs. He reached around her, his arms locking around her back. Sitting back on his heels, he pulled Clarisse up off the bed and onto his lap, changing the angle of his penetration. Clarisse gasped at the change in angle then moaned when his lips closed around her nipple, his fingers reaching between their bodies to find her clitoris.

  

Thrusting up and into her, he caressed her. His thrusts were short and powerful and combined with the pressure to her clitoris Clarisse felt her body explode, sending her into the realm of pure pleasure. As Clarisse’s channel rhythmically squeezed around Joseph, his thrusts became faster, less rhythmic more stuttered. He felt his balls contract tightly against his body before his orgasm crashed over him. His mouth closed over Clarisse’s breast, suckling hard as he shuddered beneath her before finally collapsing forward, Clarisse underneath him.

  

Eventually, Joseph was able to roll off Clarisse onto his back. Clarisse shifted, laying her head across Joseph’s chest as his arm came around to rest across her shoulders. Their breathing steadied and both slipped into sleep, each relishing the presence of the other.

 

**The End**

 

 


	26. Punishment- The Twenty-Sixth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rupert punishes Clarisse for her interference.

**Punishment**

 

  

Clarisse watched as Rupert stalked toward her. He was angry, very angry. He had dismissed security, including Joseph, ordering them from Parliament Chambers. Joseph had tried to argue, but Rupert’s growled warning had forced the other man to relent. Clarisse had watched as Joseph walked out of the Chambers, the expression on his face conveying his displeasure. Once the doors were closed, Rupert turned the ornate key that sat in the lock, effectively locking them inside the Chambers.

  

Now he stood before her, his eyes blazing with fury. She looked at him, her hands clasped in front of her. She projected an outward calm, which belied the nervous excitement, and tension that filled her. Looking into her husband’s eyes, she remembered his warning weeks ago if she fought him on the points of this bill. She remembered the tone and timbre of his voice as he described in vivid detail exactly what he would do to her if she and her supporters managed to block the bill, forcing it to return to the general assembly. And by the look in her husband and Regent’s eyes, he was intent on following through with his warning.

  

“Explain to me wife why you did not heed my warning?” Rupert bit out.

  

“Rupert…,” began Clarisse. At the look he shot her, she quickly changed her tactic. “Your Majesty, the bill introduced was incomplete. It didn’t take into consideration…,” she began to explain, only to have her explanation cut off by Rupert grabbing her hair and forcing her head back.

  

“I am well aware of what the bill did not take into consideration,” he ground out, between clenched teeth. His grip to her hair was punishing but not painful. “I am also well aware the supposed considerations could have easily been added to the bill before it was signed into law ensuring that certain factions of Parliament would remain ignorant of the additions until after the fact,” he said. “But now thanks to your interference, those same factions will have a chance to review the bill, going over it with a fine toothed comb, removing any and all parts that don’t meet with their agenda. You and your sycophants have now effectively tied the hands of the Monarch, preventing it from acting in the best interest of the Genovian people.”

  

Clarisse stared at him. _Surely, she didn’t_ …

  

Rupert forced his wife to look at him. She saw the flare of desire that flashed in his eyes before he whispered in her ear. “Because of your interference to the Crown of Genovia and harm, however inadvertent and unintentional, to its people I am forced to punish you.”

  

Clarisse shivered at Rupert’s whispered voice. The images brought forth by his whispered declaration caused arousal to pool low in her abdomen and her nipples to pebble. Any other woman or man would be trembling in fear at the prospect of being punished by the Genovian Crown but her trembling was not from fear, it was from excitement.

  

Rupert released Clarisse’s hair abruptly, moving away from her. His expression did not change when she stumbled as the result of his quick release. Inwardly, he smirked. If he wasn’t mistaken, his wife was already aroused and he knew it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge into ecstasy.

  

Rupert took Clarisse’s arm and pulled her to stand in front of the table in the centre of the Chambers.

  

“Place your hands on the table,” Rupert ordered.

  

Clarisse looked at Rupert.

 

“Hands on the table,” he ordered again. He watched as Clarisse placed her hands on the table. The table was lower than a normal dining table, forcing Clarisse to bend slightly at the waist. Rupert moved to stand behind Clarisse. He bent and whispered in her ear, making sure his entire body rested against her back.

  

“Feet shoulder width apart,” he said. Clarisse tried to suppress the shiver that travelled through her body at the feeling of Rupert’s warm breath against her ear and his warm body against her back, both in direct contrast to the cool of the Chambers.

  

“Very good, my dear,” Rupert said. He moved away, walking around to the other end of the table. “Look at me my dear,” he said.

  

He watched as Clarisse raised her head and looked directly at him. Her eyes, normally a soft blue were now almost sapphire in colour. They were so dark that it was difficult for him to distinguish between the pupils and the colour. Her cheeks were flushed a light pink. Her top gaped just enough under her modest jacket to see the flush to her upper chest. He knew from experience her nipples were probably stiff points inside the silk of her bra.

  

“Do you have anything to say? Any justified reasons for you actions today. I am a benevolent king. I offer you this chance to speak in your defence before I decide on your punishment,” Rupert said, looking directly into his wife’s eyes.

  

“No, Your Majesty. I have nothing to say in my defence,” she said, her gaze never leaving Rupert’s.

  

“Very well,” he said, walking around the table. He moved away from Clarisse, out of her field of vision and she fought the urge to look over her shoulder to see where he had gone. He returned, walking back into her field of vision on her left side. He placed a paper in the centre of the table. Clarisse recognized it as the proposed bill. Tapping it with his finger, Rupert said, “I want your eyes on this bill the entire time during your punishment. Your eyes will not close; your gaze will never waver from this bill as I administer your punishment. Do you understand?”

  

Clarisse trembled at the timbre of his voice. She swallowed, and whispered, “Yes.”

  

“What was that?” Rupert asked, bending closer. Clarisse turned her head and looked into his eyes. In a slightly stronger voice she repeated, “Yes, I understand.”

 

“Good,” said Rupert before he moved out of her field of vision once again. Minutes ticked by as Clarisse stood there, her gaze fixed on the proposed bill, her hand braced on the table, her legs shoulder width apart and her pussy soaking her panties. She kept her breathing under tight control, taking slow even breaths as she waited for her husband and King to punish her.

  

She almost yelped in surprise when she felt his hand on the back of her knee. She concentrated on keeping her eyes opened as her King trailed his hand up the back of her leg. She read the words of the proposed bill as a way to keep her eyes from closing as she felt his other hand join the first in the soft caress up the back of her other leg.

 

She trembled when she felt him lay against her back. “I have decided your punishment,” he said. “Do you want to know what it is?” he asked, not expecting an answer from her. “I have decided I am going to fuck you. I am going to fuck you just as you _fucked_ me, right here in Parliament Chambers. But unlike the fucking you and your sycophants handed me today, I am not going to need any assistance,” Rupert growled into her ear. His hands continued to caress the backs of her legs. She could feel the cool air on her legs as Rupert pushed her skirt up. She fought against the urge to close her eyes, instead concentrating on the words of the bill before her. Her lips moved silently as she fought the urge to moan as Rupert squeezed and fondled her ass.

  

“Or perhaps I should request some assistance,” said Rupert as his hands pushed her skirt up above her hips. He leaned back to look at Clarisse, her skirt around her waist, her luscious ass framed by the blue garter belt she wore and covered by a pair of matching blue panties. He trailed his fingers over the silk of her panty-clad bottom as he leaned over her once more. “Perhaps I should request the assistance of Joseph?” he said. He felt Clarisse shiver at the mention of their Head of Security. Rupert smirked, not in the least surprised at Clarisse’s reaction.

  

Their Head of Security featured prominently in many of his wife’s fantasies. And while he knew Clarisse would never break her marriage vows Rupert wasn’t above using her attraction to Joseph for his own means. “Perhaps I should call for him, and have him assist me with your punishment. I wonder what he would say if he could see his lovely Queen bent over a table, her skirt hiked up to her waist, her luscious ass exposed and her pussy…,” Rupert trailed a finger over the tell-tale wetness at the front of his wife’s panties. “Her pussy dripping wet,” said Rupert, his hand moved aside her panties, and a single finger entering the dripping channel of his wife only to be removed just as quickly.

  

“Mmm…you taste incredible, wife,” said Rupert, sucking the taste of her from his finger.

  

Clarisse couldn’t stop the guttural moan of “Rupert,” from escaping. At her moan, Rupert leaned back and pulled her panties down delivering a slap to her exposed bottom. “No moans,” he said. “No sounds of enjoyment of any kind from you,” he growled as he delivered a few more slaps to her exposed bottom. He looked at her lightly reddened ass, enjoying the site of the reddened skin surrounded by the otherwise pale globes. “In fact, why don’t you read the proposal to me as I fuck you? That should keep your mouth too busy to moan,” he said as he deftly unhooked her garters, pushing her panties further down until they rested just below her knees.

  

Clarisse closed her eyes briefly at his order. She would never be able to read the proposal as he fucked her. She knew this and he knew this.

  

Rupert unzipped his pants and pulled his erect cock free. He trailed the head of his cock over the heated skin of Clarisse’s ass, enjoying the quivering flesh before positioning himself behind her.

  

“Begin,” he ordered as he slid into Clarisse’s moist pussy in one smooth thrust.

  

Clarisse fought the moan that threatened to escape and began to read the bill, her voice husky. “An Act to make provision for the purposes of promoting public involvement in relation…Oh…Rupert…,” she moaned at the feel of Rupert thrusting into her.

 

“Read,” Rupert delivered a harsh slap to Clarisse ass in retribution for her moan.

  

Clarisse began to read once again, her voice moving from husky to breathless. “…to local authorities and other public authorities…Ohh…,” she cried as Rupert changed his angle and speed of penetration.

  

Clarisse’s legs shook. Each thrust of Rupert’s rubbed against Clarisse’s clit driving her arousal higher and higher. Rupert grasped her hair and pulled her head back.

  

“Read,” he ordered as he thrust into her harder and harder.

  

Clarisse returned to reading. She couldn’t remember where she had left off. “…to make provision about local freedoms and honorary titles…oh god… Ru…Rupert,’ she moaned as Rupert thrust into her harder and harder. She couldn’t keep reading. Her arms wobbled, and she collapsed onto them. Rupert continued to thrust harder and harder into her. Every thrust of his raked over her clit and Clarisse knew it was only a matter of minutes before she exploded in orgasm.

  

Rupert leaned against her back. “I didn’t tell you to stop reading,” he snarled. Clarisse simply moaned her head in her arms. She couldn’t think, or speak all she could do was feel as Rupert thrust faster and harder into her. Her orgasm surprised her, one moment she was moaning into her arms and the next she was biting her jacket trying to keep from screaming as her body exploded in ecstasy. Her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the table. Rupert collapsed against her seconds later. As they lay there recovering, Clarisse prayed her punishment for this session of Parliament had ended, because she was certain she would not be able to endure another.

 

 

**The End**


	27. Oak and Rosewood-The Twenty-Seventh Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Palace contains beautifully created furniture, none quite as beautiful as the Queen’s desk. If this desk could speak, what stories it could tell.

**Oak and Rosewood**

 

 

_Oh, hello. Why thank you. It is lovely to meet you too. Oh yes, my lustre is beautiful, isn’t it. The maids polish me almost daily. How long have I been here? Well, let me see._

_  
_

_I was commissioned well over two hundred years ago as a gift from His Majesty, King Eduard Renaldi to his new wife, Queen Margarita as a wedding gift._

_  
_

_Such a lovely couple._

_  
_

_I was designed and built by a master cabinetmaker in the town of Ardua, in the northwest corner of Genovia. From my sturdy oak and rosewood inlaid top to my elegantly curved legs…Oh, thank you. I’m rather fond of them myself. Yes, the carvings are lovely._

_  
_

_During my time here at the Palace I have borne witness too many events. Oh yes…so many…why the stories I could tell! I’ve been privy to everything from trade negotiations to late night covert meetings…yes, Genovia is peaceful but that peace requires diligence. Stories? Oh the stories I could tell would make wonderful reading._

_  
_

_Really? You want to hear some…oh no…no, not an imposition at all. Please…sit down. No, not over there….come sit in my chair. Oh…yes it is a very comfortable chair. Where would you like me to start? At the beginning? Oh…no I don’t mind at all…let me see._

_  
_

_I am sure you don’t want to hear about boring meetings. How about love stories? You look like someone who appreciates a good love story. Oh good…now get comfortable and I will begin. Oh just one more thing…not all of these stories are traditional love stories…some of them are….well…different for want of a better word._

_  
_

_But I think you will like them. Shall I begin?_

_  
_

_The first story is about…._

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

  

Eduard threw open the door of his wife’s study. He didn’t acknowledge the ladies-in-waiting curtseys or the guard’s bows. His gaze was fixed on the elegantly dressed woman who stood behind the desk.

  

“Out,” he ordered. The closing click of the door told him his order had been followed. Walking around the desk he came to a stop. “Would you care to explain?” he asked. He didn’t bother to elaborate; he knew she was well aware of what he was referring to.

  

“No,” she answered simply. Her hands were clasped in front of her. She appeared serene and calm.

  

Eduard’s eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath, his jaw clenched, trying to quell the anger and rage threatening to overwhelm him From between clenched teeth he asked, “So you don’t wish to elaborate on why I have spent the past two hours in Parliament hearing from numerous members of the same of the Queen, my wife, supposed infidelity with Spanish Ambassador. Do you deny you met him, alone in the garden yesterday, where your assignation was witnessed by no less than ten people? Do you deny he kissed you? Held you? Was overtly familiar with you? Do you deny any of this?”

  

“I deny nothing. Why should I?” Margarita answered, leaning a hip against the side of her desk. “Yes, he held me in his arms and kissed me. Yes, our so called assignation was witnessed by, if I am not mistaken fourteen people, not ten,” said Margarita. “All of this is true.”

 

“So you do not deny having an affair with him?” growled Eduard. “How long has he been occupying your bed?” demanded Eduard.

  

The slap was loud in the quiet of the study. Margarita glared at Eduard. “The only man occupying my bed, dear husband, is you,” she said through clenched teeth. “You think because a man kisses me and holds me, is overtly familiar with me, as you term it, that I must be having an affair with him? You trust me so little?” she asked. For a brief moment Eduard thought Margarita was going to collapse in tears, her eyes shone with unshed tears, but she did not. Standing tall, her bearing regal, looking every inch the Queen, she said, “When you are ready to apologize I will be in MY suite.”

 

Eduard controlled his flinch at her words. She had never occupied the traditional Queen’s suite since their marriage, preferring his suite of rooms. Margarita curtsied briefly before rising and turning on her heel.

  

The door to the study closed abruptly. Eduard stared at the shut door and slammed his fist on the oak and rosewood desk.

   

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  

_I must say I was rather worried King Eduard had dented me, but my quality allowed me to withstand his abuse. Which is a good thing since it seems the Kings of Genovia possessed tempers, which usually resulted in their fists connecting with my lovely wood._

_  
_

_Oh, you are wondering if Eduard and Margarita spoke again. They did…they did. But only after Eduard apologized._

_  
_

_The apology? I don’t know about the apology but they did have three children. Their eldest Philippe was crowned king after they abdicated. He was married to a lovely woman by the name of Sophie. Oh… you’ve heard of Queen Sophie. Yes…yes she was rather…well, I suppose headstrong is the word I would use to describe her._

_  
_

_Would you like to hear a story of her and Philippe? Well, let me think._

_  
_

_AH! I’ve just the one. This one takes place…_

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

  

Sophie entered her study. She couldn’t sleep. She missed Philippe. Before he had left on his trip, they had had an argument, just another in a long line of arguments. She wished at times she could be less stubborn and more biddable, she supposed, but those characteristics were not who she was. She was stubborn, opinionated, wilful and intelligent. She refused to act as if she had nothing but fluff in her head. Parliament would just have to contend with her as she was, and not as they wanted her to be.

  

Moving further into her study she placed the candle she carried onto the desk and started in surprise, a scream caught in her throat.

  

“Philippe! What are you doing here?” she asked, surprised to see her husband and king sitting behind her desk in her study.

  

“Resting,” he said, smiling.

  

Sophie huffed. “I mean, what are you doing here now? I…we weren’t expecting you for another three days,” said Sophie.

 

 “I decided to ride ahead. I was tired of travelling with everyone, so I and Hector rode ahead,” explained Philippe. He looked at his wife, dressed in her modest nightclothes, her glorious auburn hair loose and felt the stirrings of desire. It was always like this with Sophie. Even when they fought the desire and love he felt for his wife simmered just below the surface.

  

“Now that I have answered your question, don’t you think you out to greet your husband with more than a stifled scream?” Philippe asked.

 

 Sophie smiled and walked around the desk to perch on its top, her legs and bare feet dangling off its side.

  

“And just what type of greeting should I give my husband?” she asked, the huskiness of her voice not lost on Philippe.

  

Philippe stood. He was dressed in just his shirt and breeches. His neck cloth and jacket discarded. Placing a hand on Sophie’s thigh he pushed her leg open and stepped between them. “Perhaps like this,” he said, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

  

Sophie’s arms slid up Philippe’s chest and around his neck. She arched closer, pressing her chest to his and surrendered to her husband’s passionate kiss. Philippe’s hand trailed up her legs, caressing the skin as he pushed her nightgown and wrapper up to reveal her soft skin.

  

His other hand slid down to her luscious bottom and pulled her lower body closer to his. He groaned when he felt her against his erection.

  

“I need you,” he husked against her lips. “Oh yes,” she murmured, her hands moving from his neck down to the front of his breeches, unbuttoning them. She pulled apart the placard her hand reaching in to grasp her husband’s length.

  

“Sophie…yes,” Philippe hissed as he thrust into his wife’s hands. Knowing he would not be able to last long he pulled her hand away from his erection, shoved his trousers down to free his erection. He pulled Sophie’s nightgown up and out of the way and with no warning thrust into his wife. Sophie keened as Philippe entered her. She was wet, and his entrance caused her nothing but pleasure. Wrapping her legs around her husband’s hips she met his thrusts with ones of her own. The pleasure she felt had her arching back to lay supine on the desk, her breath coming in gasps as Philippe thrust faster and harder. Her cries of pleasure increased as she felt her womb tighten and the feeling of ecstasy crash over her. She barely registered Philippe’s accompanying cries of release as she rode wave after wave of her orgasm. Finally, the pleasure subsided and she lay there panting on her desk, with Philippe’s head pillowed on her breast, one hand caressing her husband’s hair and the other moving softly over the top of the desk.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

  

_Oh…yes…I’ve been the scene of many a seduction, you could say. Yes…quite often, in fact._

_  
_

_Do you wish to hear more? No…no I don’t mind. More recent encounters? How recent?_

_  
_

_Why yes, I do have a few stories featuring Queen Clarisse and King Rupert. Oh…you want to hear about those later. Do I have any about Queen Clarisse and her new husband Joseph? Before their marriage? Why yes I do. Of course…of course. No, not at all._

_  
_

_Let me see. Ah! I have the perfect one._

_  
_

_This one takes place three years before their marriage. It was a lovely spring day…._

  

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  

 

Queen Clarisse signed the last of the documents with a flourish. Setting her pen down, she flexed her fingers and looked at her assistant. “Charlotte, please tell me that is the last of the documents to sign?” asked Her Majesty.

  

“Yes ma’am it is. For today that is, tomorrow there will likely be more,” answered Charlotte.

  

Her Majesty sighed and sat back in her desk chair. “Oh well, at least today I won’t have to sign anything more. What is next on the schedule?” asked Clarisse.

  

Charlotte pulled out her Blackberry, scrolled through the date and said, “Just tea, with Joseph.”

  

Clarisse smiled. “Wonderful,” she said. Charlotte returned her smile and added, “Tea includes the finalization of the security plans for the charity ball.”

  

Her Majesty frowned then quickly smiled. Even mixed with business tea with Joseph was enjoyable. “Did Mrs. Cowt…?” began Clarisse.

  

“Mrs. Cowt included coffee and the strawberry tarts as requested,” Charlotte answered.

  

“Good…good.” The knock on the office door prevented further conversation. Charlotte walked over, opened the door and directed the teacart near the settee. Miguel, the footman bowed and turned to leave, stepping to the side as Joseph walked through the door.

  

“Good afternoon,” Joseph greeted bowing and smiling at the two women.

 

“Good afternoon Joseph,” greeted Her Majesty. “Hello Joseph,” said Charlotte.

  

Charlotte turned and addressed Her Majesty. “Ma’am if that is all, I will file these papers.”

  

“Charlotte, the papers can wait. Since there is nothing else scheduled for today, take the rest of the afternoon off. I know you have wanted to go see that new Bond movie. Today would be the perfect day to go,” said Her Majesty.

  

“If you’re sure ma’am,” said Charlotte.

 

“I am sure. Now go enjoy Bond…James Bond,” Her Majesty said, smiling.

  

“Thank you,” said Charlotte. Charlotte closed the door on her way out, missing the look that passed between Her Majesty and Joseph.

  

Joseph waited for a few minutes before moving around desk to come to stand near Her Majesty’s chair.

  

“Alone at last,” he said, as he pulled Clarisse up and took her in his arms. Clarisse wrapped her arms around Joseph’s neck. “The tea will get cold,” she said.

  

“There are more important things than tea at this moment,” Joseph replied, his gaze moving between Clarisse’s eyes and lips.

  

“And that would be?” asked Clarisse softly.

  

“This,” said Joseph kissing her slowly. Clarisse returned Joseph’s kiss, enjoying the feel of his lips and goatee. She opened her mouth in response to his soft insistence. The kiss changed from soft, slow to passionate and Clarisse moved closer to Joseph, her body pressed tightly against his.

  

Joseph groaned at the feeling of Clarisse pressed tightly against him. He could feel her soft lush breasts move against his chest with every breath. His hips and groin were nestled against hers, the feel of her fuelling his desire. Turning them without breaking their kiss, Joseph pushed her back against the edge of her desk. Once she was leaning against it, he lifted her by her waist and sat her on top.

  

“Joseph what?” breaking their kiss to ask.

  

“Shh… _reina mia_. There is something I want to do,” he said before capturing her lips once again. Joseph moved from her lips to her neck, pressing her back onto the desk, forcing her to arch her back. He kissed and savoured the soft skin as he travelled across to her collarbone then to the hint of cleavage exposed. His lips tasted and kissed the skin as his hands caressed her through her clothes. He caressed her breasts through her clothes and moved slowly down her body until he was kneeling before her. Clarisse levered herself up onto her elbows to see what he was going to do, only to have her upper body collapse back onto the desk when she felt Joseph’s hands travel up her silk covered legs.

 

“Joseph…,” she moaned when she felt his fingers dance across the tops of her thighs. She didn’t resist when she felt him push her skirt up to her hips. She could feel his breath on her and tried not to squirm as his fingers deftly unhooked first one garter then the other. She bit her lip when she felt him hook his thumbs into her panties and pull them down and off her. She didn’t resist when he spread her legs a bit wider, exposing her to his gaze.

 

“ _Hermosamente,_ ” he growled, the sight of her quivering, wet flesh framed by the soft auburn curls feeding his desire for her. He reached up and placed a hand on the inside of her thigh. He bent his head and softly licked her, gathering a slight taste of her. Her flavour erupted over his tongue. She was tangy, sweet, heady and all woman. She was what he desired. With little warning, Joseph buried his head between her silken thighs and devoured her with relish.

  

Clarisse barely stifled the scream of pleasure she experienced. Her hand grabbed at Joseph’s head as he teased and tormented her. Her legs quivered, her breath came in harsh pants as Joseph feasted on her. She didn’t know how much of this she could take. The pleasure was overwhelming. She squirmed on the desk and Joseph placed an arm across her abdomen to hold her still. She panted and moaned as he continued to make love to her with his mouth, ignoring her soft pleas. Her breasts were heavy. Her nipples were taut buds inside the silk of her bra. Her body was on fire. She knew she was only moments away from coming.

  

“Please Joseph….please…sto…ohh…god…Joseph…please…,” she begged as her body wound tighter and tighter. Just when she thought she could take no more, Joseph’s lips closed around her clitoris and with a few flicks of his tongue sent her over the edge into ecstasy. She whimpered, her body quivering in orgasm as she rode wave after wave of pleasure. Finally, the pleasure subsided and she lay spent on the desk, her legs hanging over the edge. She felt Joseph’s body lean over hers and opened her eyes to look into his dark blue gaze.

  

“Hmm…,” she said, grasping the back of his head and kissing him, enjoying the taste of herself on his lips. She could feel the bulge in Joseph’s pants and knew this was only her first orgasm of the afternoon.

  

Tea would definitely have to wait.

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

  

_Oh yes… that was one of many such afternoons. Yes, I do have more stories. Ones of Queen Amelia? Yes…quite a few. Quite a few indeed. No…not of her and Lord Nicholas. No…she never enjoyed an assignation with him here…now she and her Head of Security…oh dear…is it that late already._

_Oh... I am sorry to see you go…You will? That would be lovely…I would love to continue our chat. Yes…yes…I’ll be here….yes, right here…waiting. Of course…no…no…you can bring him along if you like…I don’t mind._

_  
_

_Bye…it’s been lovely visiting with you._

  

The office door shut and desk settled back down. _Such a lovely person…so like her great-great-grandmother Clarisse_ , desk thought content to wait for another visit.

 

 

**The End**

**  
**


	28. A Bath- The Twenty-Eighth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple bath can lead to so much more. A sequel to Workout- The Twenty-Fourth day of the Lusty Month of May.

**A Bath**

 

  

Lord, she was tired.

  

Bone-tired.

  

She entered her suite, thanking the guard as he closed the door. Moving inside kicked off her shoes and padded across the carpet to the mirror hanging on the wall. She stared at the face reflected grimacing at the easily seen lines of exhaustion.

  

Unbuttoning her jacket, she shrugged out of it, tossing it on one of the chairs. Reaching behind herself, she unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor before picking it up and tossing it on the chair with her jacket. Stretching, she pulled her top over her head, throwing it toward the rest of her clothes. Clad in her bra and panties she padded into the bedroom, pleased to see her nightclothes laid out on the bed. She moved over to the small dressing table and grabbed her small toiletry carrying it toward the bathroom.

 

Opening the bathroom door, she gasped at the size of the tub. Even the Palace did not have a tub this size. Kneeling down, she ran her hands reverently over the cool porcelain. Turning the faucets on, she adjusted the temperature until it was perfect. Spying a selection of bath oils and beads tucked into the corner of the tub she opened one of the bottles and sniffed. A combination of chamomile, musk and other scents drifted towards her. Sighing, she tipped the bottle, pouring the fragrant bath oil into the tub. Reaching into the water, she swirled it around, enjoying the silky feel of it.

  

Standing, she shed her remaining clothes, stepping into the bath. With a sigh of pure pleasure, she sank into the heated water.

  

Drifting in a sea of relaxation, she did not hear the door to her suite open nor did she hear her visitor pick up her clothes, folding them neatly before carrying them to the bedroom. She did not hear him remove his shoes, jacket, and the rest of his clothing, folding them and placing them out of the way. She did not hear him unzip the bag he brought with him, removing various bottles and sponges. She did not hear him walk naked into the bathroom.

  

She felt his presence in the room before she even opened her eyes. She smiled at him standing before her nude. She wasn't surprised he was here. She knew he would come tonight.

  

Placing the bottle and sponge on the rim of the tub, he stepped into the bath. Settling himself inside, he pulled her to him until she rested between his legs and against his chest. Reaching for the bottle, he poured some of the liquid onto the sponge and very slowly began to wash her.

  

First, her arms, then shoulders, down her torso to her breasts. Moving the sponge across her breasts, he washed each slowly and methodically. Circling around the outside then underneath, moving across the middle, taking time to gently wash her nipples then back to the underside again. Moving down her torso he made sure to reach all the small valleys across her abdomen, even dipping his little finger into her belly button to make sure it was clean. Slowly he rinsed the areas he had just washed making sure to rinse off all the soap.

  

Placing more liquid onto the sponge, he urged her to bend forward her back exposed to him. Running the sponge up her spine, he washed first her right shoulder blade then her left. He washed across the nape of her neck making sure not to miss an inch. Moving across the top of her shoulders, he followed her spine back down to its end. "Stand up, please so I may finish,” he whispered.

  

Leaning forward she stood slowly, her eyes still closed in bliss. Starting on her lower back he slowly moved the sponge across to her hip. He moved the sponge in a circular motion washing her left hip and buttock, stopping only when he reached the cleft. Sliding the sponge down her cleft, he smiled at her soft moan. Moving across her right buttock, he repeated the same circular motion that he used on the left side. Moving back to the centre, he slid the sponge up her cleft reaching her tailbone. Dipping the sponge in the water, he began to rinse her hips and buttocks. Sliding his hand over her buttocks, he spread her cleft open, trickling the water down it. Her gasp of surprise turned into a moan of pleasure at the sensation of warm water flowing over her most intimate area. He placed a hand on her hip and whispered, "Turn around."

  

She turned to face him, looking down at him. The concentration on his face sent rivers of heat through her. Filling the sponge once more with soap, he began washing the front of her. Moving the sponge down her abdomen and across her hips, he washed her right thigh, moving down to the calf, ankle and ultimately her foot. She placed a hand on his strong shoulders to aid her in her balance while he washed the bottom of her foot. Moving back up her right leg, he repeated the same for her left side, pausing to massage the back of her left knee in the same manner he did when he massaged her right foot.

  

Rinsing the sponge, he opened a slightly smaller bottle that she had not noticed before, pouring a bit onto the sponge. Placing his hand on the inside of her thigh, he waited for her to open her legs. "I don't like to leave things half done," he whispered.

  

She saw the passion in his eyes when she looked into his eyes and wordlessly opened her legs. A gasp erupted from her when she felt the sponge against her outer lips.

  

"It is a slight variation on your gift to me," he whispered.

  

The sharp contrast between the coolness of the soap and the warmth of the sponge caused her to moan. She could feel ever ridge and valley on the sponge! The sensation was unbelievable!

  

His fingers opened her to his ministrations. He ran the sponge over her inner lips stopping to rest it against her clitoris. Sliding the sponge back and forth, he teased her clitoris. He slid a finger into her smiling at her moan. Using the natural coolness of the soap he teased and tormented her, causing her legs to shake and her body to shiver.

  

He had intended to tease her until she came, but her need fuelled his and he found himself ending the bath abruptly.

  

Lifting her out of the tub, he carried her to the bed. His eyes raked over her as he laid her down. Her skin flushed from the heat of the bath and the heat of the washing.

  

He leaned down, kissing her, showing her how much he wanted her. She returned his kiss with equal passion. She pulled him down and onto her, her legs spread. She lifted her hips and gasped as he slid into her wet channel. They rocked together slowly, kissing and caressing each other. Soon though the simple rocking was not enough and he increased his thrusts. He drove into her harder and faster. She met each of his thrusts with ones of her own.

  

She could feel her orgasm building, her walls tightening around his shaft. She could feel him expanding, readying to flood her with his semen. She felt his hand move between their bodies and flick over her clitoris.

 

Once, twice and they both shattered in the wake of their orgasms. Once recovered, he rolled off her, gathering her into his arms and spooning behind her. He kissed her below her earlobe.

  

"Hmmm... thank you,” she murmured.

  

"You’re welcome, now sleep Clarisse," he answered.

  

"Did you set the alarm? We have an early flight."

  

"Don't worry. It’s taken care of,” he said. “Besides you’re the boss, they wouldn’t dream of leaving without you."

  

Snuggling against Joseph, Her Majesty Queen Clarisse Renaldi closed her eyes and slept.

 

**The End**

 

**  
**


	29. Discoveries- The Twenty-Ninth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia accidentally discovers a few things.

**Discoveries**

 

Mia was exploring the Palace once again. This was her third trip to Genovia. As it was summer, the schedule for the Royal Family was light. Just a few meetings during the week, which meant Mia, was free to explore the Palace at her leisure. She walked down the corridor peeking into various rooms before coming to the end of the corridor and the final door. She opened the door, and let out a gasp of surprise at the room.

 

The walls were panelled in walnut. The furniture was various shades of deep russet and black leather with a few light browns thrown in for good measure. The bookcases and desks were a walnut and oak. Having a mother who was an artist made it easy for Mia to identify the various woods in the room.

  

Moving further into the room, Mia walked around the large room. She looked at the pictures on the bookcases, some of them known to her and some of them not. Coming across one picture her eyes widened, she suddenly knew whose room she was in, she had to be in Joseph’s office.

  

Before her was a picture of her grandmother, Joseph and if she wasn’t mistaken her grandfather; the two men had their heads resting on the shoulders of her grandmother and her grandmother was laughing. The next picture must have been taken seconds after the first. This one showed both men each kissing the cheek of her grandmother. Her grandmother looked…Mia didn’t quite know how to describe the look on her grandmother’s face but it definitely wasn’t embarrassed.

  

Mia continued to walk around the room, stopping to look at various pictures. She came across a few of her father and her Uncle Pierre. A few of them made her laugh. Many of the pictures had Joseph in them along with her grandfather. Mia hadn’t realized how long Joe had worked for the Royal Family. Mia walked around the large walnut desk, sitting down in the desk chair. She ran her hands over the top of the desk. She noticed a pair of sunglasses sitting near the edge and a spark of mischief flared. Picking up the sunglasses, she slipped them on, schooling her features in an expression she had seen Joe don often she leaned back in the chair and pretended she was the Royal Head of Security giving one of his men a lecture.

  

A noise out in the hall had Mia whipping the sunglasses off and replacing them. The doorknob turning had her looking around frantically and the door opening had her diving under the large desk, tucking her legs into her body and pulling the chair close to the desk.

  

“After you,” Mia heard Joseph’s voice.

  

“Thank you,” answered a familiar voice. _‘Oh crap…oh crap…Grandma and Joe,’_ Mia eeped. She threw her hand over her mouth stifling any other noises that might escape.

  

Mia heard what sounded like shoes dropping and someone sitting down. “Oh that feels wonderful,” she heard her grandmother say. Mia heard the clinking of ice in a glass then the pouring of liquid. _‘Joe must be getting drinks,’_ she thought.

  

“Thank you Joseph,” her grandmother said.

  

Mia heard another set of shoes hit the floor and someone else sit down, then nothing for a few minutes. Finally, she heard Joe’s distinct voice.

  

“How have the lessons and meetings with our Mia going?” he asked.

  

_‘Our Mia?’_ Mia wondered. _‘Since when am I our?’_

  

“Wonderful. She is catching on fast,” said Clarisse.

  

“She has a good teacher,” answered Joseph. Mia heard Joe chuckle. Her grandmother probably gave Joe that look of _‘whatever’_ she often uses when someone says something she considers unbelievable. Not that she would ever tell her grandmother that.

 

“Her insights are so refreshing. She sees more than she thinks she does, often making observations that are spot on,” said Clarisse.

  

“Yes, she is extremely observant. She has an innate gift of being able to see what others often take for granted,” said Joseph. “If she wasn’t training to be Queen I would recruit her to be part of my team. She has the natural gifts that make a good security officer,” added Joseph.

  

Mia could feel the blush spreading across her cheeks at Joe’s words.

 

“I just wish she had more confidence in herself,” said Clarisse.

  

“Don’t worry it will come,” said Joseph. “I seem to remember a certain young man who had the same self-confidence problem at her age.”

  

“So true,” said Clarisse. “Philippe often couldn’t see how self-confident he naturally was, but you are correct. Eventually, Mia like her father will realize there is nothing she cannot do. Speaking of sons, Pierre called.”

  

“He did?” asked Joseph.

  

“Yes, he did. He is coming for a visit in three weeks. He wants to spend some time with Mia. He wants to show her all the secret places within the Palace. I told him Mia has been exploring and has probably discovered all of them by now.” Clarisse looked at Joseph with an amused look.

  

“What?”

  

“There is something else Pierre wants to do when he arrives, but he isn’t sure how to go about arranging it,” Clarisse said.

  

“Do I want to know?” asked Joseph, the expression on his face one of resignation and dread. Knowing Pierre whatever he was planning or wanting to plan would give Joseph logistical nightmares.

  

“No, I think it would be best if Pierre explained it,” Clarisse replied.

  

Joseph’s deep sigh had Clarisse giggling.

  

‘ _Whoa…Grandma giggles_ ,’ Mia thought. _‘This is so weird.’_ Mia heard bodies shifting on the sofa and finally her Grandmother spoke again.

  

“This is nice. How long do we have before we have to reappear?”

  

“I told Charlotte I would have you back in an hour. She told me I could have two but I didn’t want to take advantage,” said Joseph. “I figure this way when I request a three hour block of your time, she will be more amicable to granting it.”

 

Clarisse laughed at Joseph’s logic. “Three hours? What would we do for three hours?” asked Clarisse, smiling. Minutes later Mia heard her grandmother say. “Oh, that is what we would do for three hours. I can see why you are so intent on not upsetting Charlotte. Perhaps you can give me another demonstration?”

  

Mia heard nothing for a minute then she heard a deep groan and Joseph’s voice.

 

“Clarisse if we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to get you back in the prescribed time and Charlotte will be displeased resulting in her not allowing me to whisk you away when I want.”

 

“Hmm… I suppose,” answered Clarisse. “But may I have at least one more kiss before we stop?” Clarisse asked, softly.

  

Mia’s eyes widened. _‘Joe…Grandma….kissing…whoa!’_ Mia was tempted to crawl out from underneath the desk and peek over the top to see but decided against it. She didn’t want to be caught. But man, she would love to see the kiss. She had always been a sucker for a good kiss. One of the reasons she loved old romantic movies was because of the kisses. _‘Maybe if I…no... No…too easy to be caught,’_ she thought. Maybe she could see them kissing later. After all, she was here all summer. _‘Yea…I can try later.’_

  

Finally, after what seemed like forever she heard Joseph speak again.

  

“I’m afraid it is time to go,” said Joseph. Mia heard her grandmother’s sigh of disappointment then heard shuffling and standing. She heard someone walk toward the desk, and then heard the rinsing of glasses. Finally, she heard the door open then close and the faint sound of her grandmother’s heels as she walked down the hall.

  

Mia waited for a few minutes before she pushed the chair out of the way, climbed out from under the desk, peeked over the edge to make sure she was alone then stood. Brushing any dirt off her jeans, she pushed the chair back in and headed to the door. Opening the door slowly, she peeked out; making sure no one was in the hall. Slipping into the hall, she closed the door quietly before walking slowly down the hall.

  

She smiled as she walked down the hall. She had intended to try to discover some secret rooms today; instead, she had discovered a few new secrets. Ones, if she had anything to do about it would end in a happily ever after for her grandma and Joe.

 

 

**The End**


	30. Declaration- The Thirtieth Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A declaration of love.

**Declaration**

 

Calloused hands caress Clarisse’s soft skin, the lightest of touches bringing her unparalleled pleasure. Joseph’s lips follow; searing, branding, and banishing any doubts that she may have harboured. When he finally gives in to her throaty pleas, Clarisse cannot stop the tears forming in her eyes. Never has she felt so wanted, so needed, so desperately loved.

  

Clarisse can do nothing but moan as Joseph thrusts into her, to retreat then return. Every thrust ignites another nerve ending adding to the already scorching fire that has turned her limbs to liquid and breath to pants. She is certain that she will not survive this pleasurable torment. She is certain she will lose her mind.

  

Just when she is sure her mind and body are no longer able to withstand this pleasure, he stops. Whimpering in protest, she can hear him whispering, her pleasure filled mind taking innumerable minutes to translate his words.  

  

“Tell me,” Joseph whispers. “Tell me.”

  

Clarisse finds it difficult to speak. Wetting her lips she tries to tell him but the words cannot escape her throat. Swallowing, Clarisse tries once more.

  

As Joseph begins to thrust into her again Clarisse whispers, “I love you.”

 

 

**The End**

**  
**


	31. Taped- The Thirty-First Day of the Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Security cameras in the Palace tape everything. Everything.

**Taped**

 

  

Rupert was irritated. No irritated was not quite right. He was angry, livid, fuming…pissed-off! Yes, he was pissed-off! Pissed the fuck off and rightly so! Every single time he tried to get his wife alone someone or something interrupted them. So far, today they were three interruptions. Once by Clarisse’s assistant reminding her of the luncheon with the Spanish enclave, once by an urgent phone call for him and finally by Joseph, their Head of Security. Although Joseph’s interruption was not so much an interruption as Rupert forgetting they had an appointment scheduled to go over some security matters. However, it was still an intrusion and one that put Rupert in a foul mood. Now he was searching for his wife and becoming more and more irritated that he was unable to locate her.

  

Rupert spied one of the younger guards, and stalked over to him. “Have you seen Her Majesty?” Rupert growled. The younger guard looked at His Majesty and answered, “No Your Majesty, I haven’t but I can find out where she is.”

  

“Do so then,” Rupert said. He crossed his arms as he waited for the young guard to finish speaking in his microphone. After a minute the young guard said, “She is in the gallery, Sir.”

  

Rupert nodded in answer then strode off in the direction of the gallery. The young guard, Shades breathed a sigh of relief, glad His Majesty was not angry with him in particular.

  

Rupert reached the gallery in record time. He found Clarisse standing in front of one of the landscape paintings. He wrapped his arms around her middle and placed a soft kiss behind her ear.

  

“I do hope you are my husband because if not I must inform you taking such liberties with your queen is frowned upon. Men have been hung by their toes in the courtyard for such behaviour,” she said, leaning against the strong chest behind her.

  

“Then it is a good thing I am your husband and not some random man overcome with desire at the sight of your beauty. I wouldn’t want to ruin the view of the courtyard by hanging bodies willy-nilly in it,” Rupert answered.

  

Turning around, Clarisse slid her arms up around Rupert’s neck. “Definitely a good thing,” she said, before kissing him. Rupert returned the kiss, exploring Clarisse’s lips and offering tantalizing licks to her lips. Clarisse opened her mouth under Rupert’s, moaning when his tongue slipped inside her mouth to explore its warmth.

  

Rupert’s hands moved across Clarisse’s back, caressing her softly before moving up to her shoulders than tangling in her hair, kissing her fiercely. Holding her head in his hands, he broke their kiss and looked into Clarisse’s eyes. “I want you,” he growled, kissing her again passionately.

  

Clarisse surrendered to Rupert’s kiss, revelling in the passion from her husband. It was always like this, Rupert’s passion feeding the fire inside her until she wanted nothing more than to surrender to the need racing through her veins. But she knew they could not surrender to their passion here in the gallery. It was too public, there was too great of a chance of being discovered.

  

Rupert’s lips moved from hers to kiss across her cheek to her neck and she took advantage of this to gasp out, “Can’t…not here.”

 

Rupert pulled back. “Here. Now,” he growled, nipping and suckling the soft skin of her neck as he pushed her against the column that stood near them. Clarisse moaned as her back met the column. She tilted her head to allow Rupert greater access to her neck.

  

“The cameras…,” she began. Her words ended in a gasp when Rupert’s hand moved up to palm her breast through her blouse and tease her nipple to tautness.

  

“To hell…,” said Rupert, placing kisses to her collarbone, “with the cameras,” he finished, sliding his hand down Clarisse’s side to her hip then down her thigh. His hand slipped under her skirt and his fingers inched it up, revelling in the silkiness of her stockings. He stopped at the top of her stocking, caressing the soft skin before unsnapping her front garter. He repeated the action on the other leg and pulled back to look into the face of his wife.

 

“I am going to make you scream for me, _chéri_ ,” said Rupert as he slid his hand back under her skirt. He could feel the heat from her and his shaft throbbed in response. His fingers slid into her panties. “So wet,” he groaned as his fingers moved through her wetness. He slid a finger into her channel, capturing her lips in a feral kiss as he moved his finger in and out of her.

  

Clarisse lifted her leg, hooking it around Rupert’s hip, granting him greater access. “Please Rupert…please,” she begged as he teased her, sliding a finger into her before slipping back out and caressing her clitoris. Any thought of being caught quickly forgotten as Rupert stroked and caressed her.

  

Hearing Clarisse beg Rupert removed his hand from her panties. Raising his fingers to his lips, he licked them clean, his gaze never leaving Clarisse’s. Clarisse’s tongue moistened her lips in response to Rupert’s action and when Rupert placed a finger on her lips, she caressed it with her tongue before sucking it slowly into her mouth. Rupert’s growl was loud in the quiet of the gallery. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be inside Clarisse now! With a quick unbutton, unzip then tug he released his erection from his pants

  

Rupert pushed Clarisse’s skirt up to her hips, tore her panties from her body and pulling her leg up onto his hip, he entered her in one quick thrust. Clarisse breath caught at his quick entry. She pushed her back against the column and tilted her hips. Rupert grabbed her other leg, lifted it off the ground holding Clarisse in his arms against the column as he thrust hard and fast into her.

  

“Oh my god,” said Carlos as he stared at the monitor that showed the gallery.

  

“What is it?” asked Andre as he swivelled to see what Carlos was looking at. “Mon Dieu,” he breathed as he stared at the monitor.

  

“What the hell has you two…,” began Marcus as he walked up to the bank of monitors. His voice trailed off seeing what had the other two men so engrossed. “Is that…?”

  

The other two men nodded before Marcus could even finish his question.

  

“Hey guys,” greeted Roger as he walked into the Hub, Kevin following. No one said a word, just simply looked away from the monitors then back again.

  

“What’s going…damn…is that...?” Roger asked once he saw the monitors. Kevin simply stared. The other three men nodded, their eyes never straying from the scene playing out on the monitors before them. The men knew they should turn off the cameras or at the very least switch the feed to somewhere else in the Palace but no one made a move to do so. As the men stared at the scene playing out in front of them, a hand reached out and flipped off the feed, causing all the monitors to go dark.

  

Carlos was the first to recover and turned to berate the person who switched off the feed. The words died on his lips when he saw who stood there. The other four men turned to add their complaints to Carlos’ but their words also died on their lips. Each man swallowed nervously. Before them stood their boss, Joseph Ramirez and the look on his face promised pain to anyone who said a word.

 

With a simple raised eyebrow, the men moved away from the bank of monitors toward the door. Just as they were ready to exit, Joseph’s voice broke the silence. “Nothing seen here today will be repeated,” he said, his voice deceptively soft.

  

The men immediately agreed. No one wanted to think about what would happen if the boss heard the slightest hint of what they had witnessed. At Joseph’s nod, the men left the Hub, each silently thanking the heavens they had escaped with just a warning.

  

After the last man left, Joseph turned back to the monitors and brought the gallery feed back up. The screens filled with the image of His Majesty tucking a hair behind Her Majesty’s ear, their tryst apparently ended. Joseph switched the feed to other cameras and popped the tape out of the recorder. Putting another in its place he set it to record. Speaking into his microphone, he ordered James to the hub. Once James arrived, Joseph picked up the tape, and headed out to find His Majesty.

  

He was sure Rupert would want this tape. In fact, he could guarantee it.

 

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Today is the last day of May. I hope you have enjoyed reading these thirty-one days as much as I have enjoyed writing them.


End file.
